


The Owned

by puddleofgoo



Series: A Life Less Ordinary [10]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Drama, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-20
Updated: 2009-10-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 173,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddleofgoo/pseuds/puddleofgoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the team is taken by surprise and brought to a slave trade market, they’re split apart and sold. Will they manage to survive under their new owners' care? Will they ever see each other, or Atlantis, again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As they walked through the woods, Colonel John Sheppard glanced at his team, feeling a little thrill of happiness. Since the rocky introduction of Ronon, things had finally come together, and they were really a team now, on their way to becoming a family.

And his relationship with Rodney? Well, that was better than good. Every day, every week, they seemed to get closer, tighter. They had their disagreements and fights, but all in all, John had slowly been expanding their dom/sub relationship into other areas of their lives, and Rodney was happier, more content than he had ever been in his life.

John couldn’t wait to get back home this evening. This was supposed to have been Major Lorne’s team mission—there was a fair that had been praised by one of their allies as a good place to make friends and trade for goods and services—but David Parrish had caught a bug, and had spent the evening in the infirmary, losing the entire contents of his stomach. Elizabeth had asked John to take on the mission in his place. It should be easy, go in, establish contact, let Teyla do her diplomatic thing, and then they could go home and he could ravish his lover.

Pulling his thoughts out of the clouds, John called ahead to Teyla, who had point. “What’s our ETA on arrival?”

She glanced over her shoulder toward John, offering a smile. "Are you in a hurry this morning, John?"

He flashed her a smile. "Just anxious to make some new friends."

She rolled her eyes as she turned back to the path and Ronon huffed behind him. John glanced over at Rodney who simply shook his head and rolled his eyes.

The weather was warmer here than on Atlantis, which meant that they'd skipped the BDU jackets, choosing to go on the mission in their T-shirts—plus the usual accoutrements, of course. The landscape was typical Pegasus—trees, trees and more trees with the occasional break for a clearing. Honestly, it wasn’t that bad. It just made for boring scenery.

John encompassed all of them in another grin, turning his attention back to the woods around them. But the sudden appearance of armed men took them all by surprise—even Ronon, who actually made a noise when they just appeared.

Even with all their weapons pointed at his team, John tried a smile.

"You must be the welcoming committee. We're here looking for allies and trading partners for our people. I'm Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard."

The men simply stared at them, the weapons not wavering.

John started to move, to bring his P90 up, when the leader—he assumed—stepped forward, aiming his gun directly between John's eyes. "Ah…no need for that. If you'd tell us what you want, we might be able to help you without resorting to violence."

"These will do," he finally said, the other men already moving forward.

When Ronon started to resist, the weapon pointed at John was cocked. Swallowing, John allowed his weapon to be taken. "Ronon..."

"What…what do you want?" Rodney hissed from John's right and he could hear the well-controlled fear in his voice.

The leader flicked his gaze over Rodney, and the dismissal was obvious. His gaze returned to John. "This one will fetch a pretty price. Make sure he isn’t marked. The others, if they resist—kill them.” He turned and strode away, his men closing ranks behind him.

John felt his eyes go wide. “Price? What the hell, wait a minute—“He took a step forward only to be grabbed roughly. He heard his team being treated similarly.

"Sheppard!"

"McKay! Just go with it for now. Everyone, don't do anything that will get you hurt." Before he could say more, a gag was fitted on him, and his hands were tied roughly behind his back.

It tasted foul and from the sounds of things, the rest of his team was being treated just as well as he was. There was a scuffle behind him and John heard the thud of flesh hitting flesh and he turned just in time to see Ronon bent over as two men tied his hands.

A muffled whimper from his side turned John's head to see Rodney being led away—his hands tied tightly behind him, gag in his mouth and a rope leash trailing from his bound hands to one of the guards beside him.

That made John see red. No one but him got to see Rodney bound, got to touch him. Without conscious thought, John was lunging, fighting to get to his lover.

A gun pressed against Rodney's head stopped John cold, especially once Rodney's blue eyes were focused on him, huge and frightened. The guard leaned in, his breath tickling his ear. "If you move another muscle we'll kill him. We'll get plenty of money for you, but he's expendable."

John was shaking with the effort to stay still. He glared at the man, his rage barely contained. He knew he was growling into the gag, but he didn't care.

A bound and gagged Teyla was pushed past him even as he held Rodney's gaze, John's guard still breathing in his ear. "Give me an excuse to kill him. You're worth a year's pay. We can be a little…discerning."

John was breathing hard, angry beyond measure. But he didn't move, didn't look away. He didn't like this talk of pay, the way they were focused on him. But better him than his team.

The guard leaned in again. "Please. I want a reason."

The other guard finally rolled his eyes and tugged Rodney forward, leading him away.

John growled again, turning his gaze onto the man who wanted to hurt Rodney.

"Remember, I just need an excuse," he said, finally attaching his own leash to John's bound hands before shoving him forward, down a smaller trail that lead away from the main path they'd been following.

At least they were headed in the same direction. At the first available opportunity, John was getting them the hell out of here. They walked for about a half-hour, before they came to a festival-like market square. John froze as he realized exactly what was on sale. Oh fuck.

There were lots of people milling about—some shopping, others chatting—all dressed in long flowing robes and sandals, the dirt and dust giving their feet a pale, powdered appearance. The market square was surrounded by forest, various dirt paths leading into the clearing from every direction.

There were several large buildings where various stores had been set up. And then there were the slave pens. Those were hard to miss.

His guard shoved him forward again, a hard slap to the middle of his back getting John moving once again. He passed by the rest of his team, already placed into locked cages along one of the thoroughfares, kneeling in the small boxes. While Ronon and Teyla looked worried, Rodney was panicking quietly, tugging at the ropes holding his hands behind his back as he shifted on his knees.

John tried to stop, turning slightly towards his team. There was a box at the end of that row, but he was shoved forward again. Making a protesting noise, he tried to turn again, to keep his team from being separated.

A cocking gun gave him pause. "Any excuse."

John caught Rodney's eyes, knew he made another noise, but he stopped resisting. His last sight of the man he loved and the team he trusted was of worried eyes as he was taken around a corner. It was a completely different area of the market, and John tried not to panic as he started to get an inkling of what the people here were being sold for.

He was tugged to the side and then his guard pulled out a knife and approached him.

John glared at him, growling again. He jerked back as the knife got closer, his training kicking in.

"Do we need to remind you about the ugly one?"

If John could have sworn, he would have. Instead, he thought of all the foul names he wanted to call the man, hoping he could read the meaning in John's eyes.

The guard chuckled as he slid the knife under John's shirt, cutting the garment from his body. "I've been called a lot worse," he said as John's BDUs became rags. The boxers followed a moment later.

John couldn't help the growling, the only way he could express himself right now, as his body turned red with humiliation. He was trying to work the gag out of his mouth, and had almost succeeded when the ape stripping him noticed.

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked before he tugged the gag tighter again, adding an extra knot to make sure it didn't slip this time. He forced John to sit down—another guard holding him in place—as they stripped him of his shoes and socks. His dog tags came off last, landing on top of the pile of what used to be his uniform.

Since his ring was on the tags, John couldn't help the keening. He leaned towards his clothes, struggling a little to get them back, even as he was tied to the chair with his legs spread wide.

The guard walked around, grabbing John's face and forcing him to look him in the eyes. "This is the last reminder I’m going to give you. Do you understand? One more move or complaint and I'll send Shalde to the other area and I will have the other one killed."

John panted, angry beyond belief, but he nodded once. As soon as his face was released, he looked back over at his tags, lying on top of the rags that used to be his clothing.

His nipples were examined roughly the guard surprised to find them pierced, making some comment about "it was time something had been done right" just before two gold rings slid into place. A small collar was wrapped around his neck and another ring placed around his cock—all gold.

"When is the auction to begin?" the guard asked a passing man.

"Shortly. Within the hour," he said, eyeing John. "You found something, Hadrious?"

John was vibrating with rage, glaring at the new man. But fear for Rodney kept him still.

"Yes. He was the only one worthy of the morning sale although the female we located may bring us a good price. Since we have time I'll make sure she is prepared as well."

John growled again at that. Fucking rat bastard sons of whores. He forced himself to cut off the noise when the ape glanced back at him again.

"He has some life to him. And then there's his coloring," the other man said, his eyes lingering on John's cock. "Ashira may like him."

The ape nodded. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

The other man checked John out again before leaving, and the guards turned back to John, who had narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the cold and sly look Ape was giving him. And he liked it even less when the man’s hand closed around John’s dick, beginning to stroke. John growled, trying to pull back out of instinct, wanting those hands off his body.

Hadrious paused, narrowing his eyes at John before turning to the other guard. "Shalde, bring me the woman, she needs to be prepared. And…check on the ugly one."

"Nnn!" John stilled, panting, knowing his captor could feel the effort it was costing him to stop struggling.

"I'll be right back," Shalde said, offering a dirty smile as he fingered his gun.

Closing his eyes, John prayed to any gods out there that Rodney would be okay. John would allow himself to be raped, abused, tortured...just let Rodney be okay. A hard pull to his cock made his eyes fly open again.

"No sleeping."

"Nnnng." John let his stare go flat.

The hand on his cock tightened. "Care to try another answer?"

John's nostrils flared. "Nnnng."

Hadrious shook his head as another man strolled in. He let go of John's semi-hard cock and gestured to the pile of rags. "The boots and necklace can be sold. The rest is garbage. See to it. He won't need it any longer."

"Nnnn!" John jerked. He stared at his tags and then looked at Hadrious. With what he was sure was visible effort, John forced his body to relax, knowing it was what was wanted of him. If they would just let him keep his ring...

The guard looked at John and then back at the other man who had paused, the items in his arms. "Did I tell you to stop and stare? Move!"

"Nnnnn!" John tried to yell through the gag as he watched his tags—his ring, his tie to Rodney—disappear out the door. Closing his eyes again, John let his head fall forward.

Hadrious laughed. "I'm glad you're beginning to understand. Your body no longer belongs to you. You will be sold for top dollar and will live as a slave until you die." His hand tapped the side of John's face. "Just be glad you were the pretty one. They'll try not to abuse you too badly."

Lifting his head, John glared. He didn't know how, but he was going to kill Hadrious. Maybe not now, but he would get free, eventually. And then the ape would die.

The man left him a few moments later after making sure all of the knots were tight and adding two more to keep John's legs spread apart, his cock and balls on display for anyone walking by.

He was left that way for probably another twenty minutes, a variety of people stopping by to eye him, a few even going so far as to feel him up, which had John screaming through the gag, struggling to escape. Hadrious finally reappeared, however, with man who looked like he was straight out of Nights of Arabia.

"…wanted to give you a special preview of one of our items for sale today. I saw him and knew it would be something you would like," Hadrious was saying as they stepped in.

The man’s eyes widened when he saw John, and he immediately walked over. “Very nice. Very nice indeed. Where did you find him?” He fondled the rings that had been put in John’s nipples, and only a look from Hadrious promising Rodney’s death kept John still. It didn’t stop him from verbally protesting as best he could, however.

"On one of our trips," Hadrious said. "I apologize for his attitude. He has yet to be broken, but I know how much you enjoy that."

The new man smiled, running his hand down John's chest to stroke at his dick. "A little attitude is fine. I have ways to deal with that. The more spirit a person has when they're given pria, the more fire there will be running through their veins. A spirit like this, and he will be crawling, begging to serve, with only a small dose."

"He will be available on auction during the next section," Hadrious said with a smile.

"I will give you one hundred rue to sell him to me now. My master will be quite pleased with this one. He has been searching for a new toy to grace his court."

"He is worth ten times that."

"You said yourself he has an attitude," the buyer said, moving around John, looking at him from every angle. "My people are the only ones with access to pria, and anything else will require him to be broken in ways that will not leave him nearly so pretty, nor valuable. Two hundred rue."

Hadrious shook his head. "I can always take him to Dashra. I’m sure someone would buy him there."

Using his thumb over the head of John's dick, the other man's eyes narrowed. John fought the urge to scream again, focusing instead on trying not to let his body betray him. "What price would you ask then? You say he is worth more, but I have not heard an amount."

"I do not know what the market will bear and would hate to price myself into a corner."

He looked over at Hadrious. "I do not wish to play games. You know my offer is more than fair. I will go to two hundred and fifty rue, but no higher. That is easily twice what you will get for the rest of your offerings today combined."

"I will take no less then one thousand."

"You are fooling yourself then," he buyer huffed, shaking his head. He gestured toward John, his hand waving. "Even for one as pretty as this, there are very few who could afford that price, and fewer still who would be willing to pay it. I am offering you a guaranteed sale, Hadrious."

"There is more than one market. Do you wish to pass up such a pretty object for the court?"

"Ah, but can you transport him from market to market without marring him? The cost of such an endeavor would offset any higher asking price. Perhaps I could come up to three hundred rue, but no further."

"One thousand is my final offer. The price will rise once he hits the general sale."

The man narrowed his eyes. "For that price, I will need to see more than just a display. Prove to me he is worth it."

Hadrious' eyes glittered. "What did you have in mind?"

John did scream this time when what looked like a small dildo appeared out of the buyer's robes. He started to thrash in the chair, struggling against his bonds.

Hadrious scowled at him before his hand was gesturing to the nearby doorway and Shalde reappeared, stepping forward as he held a knife to Rodney's throat. The scientist was clothed, but his feet were bare and he was still bound and gagged, his blue eyes wide. John could almost feel McKay's fear all the way across the room. "I apologize, but this one requires a bit of persuasion."

John's eyes widened, and he stilled, panting.

The buyer merely nodded, as two more guards untied John and hauled him to his feet, securing him to a suspension frame. He wanted desperately to fight, but every time he started to, he caught his lover’s eyes, with the knife pressed against his pale throat. John lost track of where the buyer was so when the dildo, which had been coated with something, was pressed inside him, it was unexpected, causing John to howl into his gag.

"He is not as loose as he should be," the buyer complained.

“He has not been prepared for the auction. I wished you to have a first look.” Hadrious was giving John an evil look, smirking.

The dildo was adjusted, brushing across his prostate. Despite himself, John knew he was getting hard. He fought the reaction, fought his body’s responses, not wanting to give these sons of bitches the satisfaction.

A whimper from Rodney changed his mind, pulling his attention and his eyes across the room. The knife had closed in on Rodney's neck, the tip cutting into the skin, drawing a small drop of blood.

Hating Hadrious, John glared, growling. His captor just smirked, and John fought off his rage as he read what the man was insinuating—give him a reason to kill Rodney.

Looking away, John found Rodney's wide blue eyes, focusing on them. They had gotten very good at reading the sublet shifts of each other's bodies, so he let himself fall into as much of a "top" posture as his current position would allow. Thinking hard, he tried to communicate, tried to block out everything around him. Just you and me, Rodney. We're the only ones here, and the only ones who matter. If I come, it's because of you.

"I apologize for this crude way to control this one," Hadrious was saying. "But we do not have the…resources you have to obtain pria."

John whimpered as his prostate was expertly hit and massaged. They wanted him to get hard, to come, and they were going to make sure he did. A hand came around, caressing him. "He is quite strong willed and has impressive stamina," the buyer said absently, his hand stroking John. "If he can be trained, he would bring much pleasure. But can he be trained without being so broken as to be useless?"

"I believe so," Hadrious said, moving a few feet, his robes dragging slightly on the floor. The hem was dirty, frayed in places. "He learns quickly what is appropriate and what is not. There are times, however, when he requires a careful reminder."

"Ah, but that reminder is your other captive. He submits to spare that one, does he not? I have no intention of purchasing two—not unless you are throwing him in as a bonus."

Hadrious shook his head. "I have other plans for him, but I’m certain the pria would take care of that."

The dildo was shifted so it was pressing directly into his prostate, rubbing hard against it. John howled again, body arching. He hated these people and would kill them without a second thought. "Ah, but pria is only available to me. He will not be so valuable to any other buyers. That makes him worth less on the open market."

"Others will find their own method of persuasion," Hadrious shrugged casually. "Once he is sold, it matters not to me."

Another hard press, and a deft twist on his dick and, despite himself, John was coming. It wasn't as hard or as overwhelming as when it was just him and Rodney, but it still made him flush with shame, hanging his head and panting into the gag.

The dildo was withdrawn, and the buyer came back around. "Hmmm, he is completely untrained. One thousand rue is much to ask for a slave who will need to be completely broken and trained. He is not worth that much, not right now."

"But most slaves have some traits built in. He does not. He can be molded to exactly what you want or need. Surely that is worth the money. He is fresh, new stock." Hadrious crossed his arms over his chest, puffing himself up a bit.

"In time, yes. But because he was free once, he will be harder to train. My pria will help, but it is not a permanent solution. He will require much time and effort—and expense—to be shaped properly."

"If you do not want him, say it simply," Hadrious said as John finally lifted his head, staring at Rodney, apology in his eyes. The scientist was completely still, his wide blue eyes fixed on John, resignation and despair in his expression. Just like John, he knew exactly what was happening and what was in store for each of them.

John focused on Rodney, trying to put all his love in his eyes, tried to reassure him. He would find a way out of this, would rescue them both somehow.

"Oh, I want him. I just do not think you will get the price you ask. If you will not come down, I will take my chances at the auction."

"I will not."

The buyer's smile was oily as he looked at John. "I will own him, and my master will be most pleased by him. However, I will take a chance that I will get him cheaper. I will see you shortly on the block, Hadrious."

"You shall. Do not be surprised if you end up paying more. Remember, I did give you the first chance." The buyer finally left, wiping the dildo with a cloth that he threw on the ground just outside the small building, slipping it back within his flowing robes.

Hadrious walked around so he could face John, fingering his limp dick. "It seems that you require more control over this. I will do this for you now, but only because I wish to get my money for you." A much heavier ring replaced the thin gold ring—which hadn't been tightly affixed. This one felt like it was a shade too tight this time, especially when it separated and surrounded his balls as well.

John bucked, unable to help it as his sensitive flesh was handled. He howled again as it closed around him, trying to twist away.

"Much better," he said as he stepped back with a smile as he slid his hands into his pockets, taking a long look. He turned glancing to another man. "Oil him. I want him to shine on the block. Audria and Hilna are readying the woman and Justen has the other. I can't believe we had to waste perfectly good hassem on him, but at least now we don't have to worry."

Hadrious' eyes slid over to Rodney. "Now, what about you? I’m not sure we can fix you."

Rodney's eyes widened and he shifted against the man who held him.

John made a noise, drawing Hadrious eyes to him again. Deliberately, he let himself go relaxed, loose, and almost seductive. Then he flicked his eyes at Rodney and stiffened again. He made it clear—leave McKay alone and I'll give you what you want. Hurt him, and I'll fight you.

Hadrious' eyebrow rose as he stared at John. "Get his clothes off," he finally said to the guard without taking his eyes off John. "Let's see what we have to work with."

Narrowing his eyes, John kicked back, catching the guard in a sensitive area, twisting around to use his legs to hurt him further. If they weren't going to leave Rodney alone, he wasn't going to cooperate.

A muffled squawk made him stop, recognizing the sound. The guard had Rodney on the ground, his pants and boxers in a puddle around him, the knife at the base of his cock.

John immediately went still, breathing hard. He saw red, body shaking with the effort not to fight. No one got to touch Rodney there but him. No one else got to see that beautiful dick. Rodney was his, and these fuckers were touching him.

"Do we need to make him a eunuch for you to behave?"

John shook his head, clenching his hands tight on the chains that held him in place.

Rodney was breathing shallowly, his bound hands trapped between the ground and his body as he tried not to move a muscle. Hadrious gestured again and the guard withdrew the blade, turning it to cut off the rest of Rodney's clothes.

His mark was there, dark against Rodney's pale skin.

Catching sight of it, Hadrious turned back to John a knowing smile on his face. "That is why you fight for him."

John glared, but otherwise held completely still, not wanting to give them a reason to hurt Rodney.

"So you are far more knowledgeable than you seem." Hadrious was pacing around him, his hands in the small of his back, his robes flowing with each step. He paused after a minute. "I do not understand your choice. You could have had anything you wanted and you picked him. I will be lucky to get someone to give me five rue for him."

John tried to keep an eye on him, tensing every time the man moved out of his line of sight. "Mmm mmmph nng." If he wanted an answer, he was going to have to take the gag out.

Hadrious shook his head as he paused, looking down on Rodney. "Get him prepared for sale. He'll be in the last group." The guard, Shalde, pulled Rodney to his feet and propelled him out the door back the way he came, disappearing from John's sight.

John protested, making a noise as he shifted his weight forward.

"I don't care what you had before," Hadrious said quietly. "That life is forfeit—was as soon as you stepped on this planet and were captured by my men. I'm a businessman and all that matters to me is money. If killing someone will make money, I'll do it without hesitation. Do you understand?"

If they killed Rodney, John would follow him. He would make them kill him as well, because there was no way he would stop fighting at that point, nothing to force his hand. John did his best to make sure it was Hadrious who understood.

The man paused for a second, shaking his head. "I can tell that you used to be a leader. A soldier, too. You are used to being in a position of strength. Here you are worth only what the market will bear."

John shrugged as much as the restraints would allow. He could cooperate and get Hadrious a better price, or he could fight and ensure no one wanted him. If they hurt Rodney in any way, it would be the former.

"I have no intention of harming any of you. That defeats the purpose of my business. I want to make money and that means selling product that has not been damaged. But understand that I also will do what it takes to make sure I get the most for my money."

John ground his teeth, but finally nodded once. He was still going to kill the man at the first available opportunity, however.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other. They will be in shortly to make sure you are prepared. They'll make sure you're watered as well."

John raised an eyebrow. Prepared? Watered? You mean being stripped, violated, forced to come, and then handled like a damn animal wasn't prepared enough?

"You have questions?"

John nodded. Well, he really wanted the foul gag out, and he wanted to call the ape a jackass out loud, but he would take what he could get.

Hadrious looked at him carefully, narrowing his eyes. "I will answer a few of your questions because you amuse me." He moved behind John untying the gag and finally pulling it free.

Working his jaw, John had to swallow a few times to get his mouth working again. "What will happen to my team?"

"They will be sold to the highest bidder," he said with a shrug. "Just like you."

"And if I told you our people would be willing to pay for our release, instead of selling us at auction?"

"They would have to be here within a short time and be registered with the market for trade. Are they?"

"No." John ground it out, jerking slightly. "We didn't even know this existed here. If I offer to cooperate, can I buy their freedom? You know you can make more money off me that way, than if I fight you."

"You are not registered and you are a slave. You are not permitted to buy or sell."

"I know that. I'm asking you to let them go free if I play the slut for you." John hated himself a little, hated that he made the offer, and that he would follow through, if it meant even one of his team went free to warn Atlantis about what happened.

"I already have interest in the woman and the Runner. They may not even make it to the auction block. It is the other that I doubt I will be able to sell," Hadrious said.

"So let him go. I'll do whatever you want. I won't fight if he goes free and you can prove you let him free. You said it yourself. I know more about sex and the human body than I let on. I could bring you more than your asking price if you have my willing participation."

"If I let him go, another would take him." Hadrious shrugged. "I am considered one of the softest in the business. He will get worse care elsewhere."

"So send him back to the gate. Escort him there, and let him dial out. The piece that was taken out of my ear is a radio. Let me wear it to hear the confirmation that McKay stepped through the gate, and I'll do anything you ask. You can watch me the whole time—I won't attempt to communicate, I'll just listen to make sure he gets through."

A voice in the wings called Hadrious and he glanced over, obviously seeing something John could not. After a moment he nodded. "Yes. This one needs to be prepared as well. Make sure it is done."

He turned back to John. "I have business to attend to. Give my men trouble and your lover will not live." He lifted his arms, preparing to put the gag back in place.

"Please." John resorted to begging. "Let him go. You know you'll get more for me anyway, and I can double that if you send him home."

"And while you beg well, you still need more training," he said instead, forcing the gag into place before tying it tightly, knotting it twice.

John growled, shaking his head, wishing it was that easy to get it out again. The taste was worse now and he fought the urge to gag.

"Throw up and you choke on it if you don't swallow it back. Think twice before you do," Hadrious said as two men walked in carrying bowls and clothes.

"Nnng mmph nnn." John really hated that man.

The men washed him thoroughly—even giving him a primitive version of a enema—before rubbing oil all over his body, pushing fingers into his ass to coat his entrance. He growled at the invasion but took it, knowing that whatever he did would just make it worse for Rodney.

He was then taken to what he assumed was the auction block. Glancing around, he hated these people in their colorful, flowing robes. They treated this as a festival, instead of the perversion that it was.

Instead of focusing on that—which would only piss him off more—John tried to get the lay of the land. He noted that there were a variety of 'types' probably here for different kinds of slaves. From they way he was being hustled, he assumed the pleasure slaves were to be first.

Glancing around for glimpses of his team, he finally spotted Ronon, shackled and chained in a cage with others of brute strength. At least he still had his clothes. When the Satedan spotted him, John saw his eyes go flat with a rage that John matched with his own curt nod.

Rodney was nowhere to be seen, but John did finally spot Teyla in the same area he was being taken to. She had been stripped as well, but wasn't chained like he was. In fact, from the way another of the men who had taken them was talking animatedly with another, John had a feeling she was going to be sold without going up on the block.

A minute and a handshake later and Teyla and two other women were led away from the main square, the deal having obviously been sealed.

John closed his eyes briefly. God, he just hoped she wasn't going to be treated to the same type of sale he was, that she wouldn't be used this way. At least he didn't have to worry about getting pregnant with some fucker's baby.

There were several men and women in line ahead of him, most slaves going for prices between two hundred and one thousand rue—whatever that was. But when he took the stage he saw several very hungry glances from the floor—men and women alike—and the bidding began quickly, fiercely, even after they listed all of his issues and problems. The bidders didn't blink as the number climbed past one thousand.

Fuck. John kept his stare flat, his posture stiff and unyielding. He knew Ronon was still out there, and had to assume Rodney was as well. They didn't need to see him panicking, skin crawling with the looks and even drooling being shot his way. He was pretty sure if this didn't end soon, he was going to be sick.

Hadrious had been right—the bastard. The bidders began to trail off around three thousand as people made the hard decision to move forward. The same buyer was in the second row, face turning purple as the bids went higher, but he kept topping the bid.

When people started to trail off, Hadrious had his men pull John further out onto the stage. A finger was pushed inside him, hitting his prostate and making him groan with the surprise and sudden jolt, reacting before he could get control of his body.

Moans of approval echoed in the square and the bidding started anew. A slap to his rear as the guard turned walking off the stage, left John fuming as trying to will down his dick.

He knew his eyes were flashing, and he couldn't help pulling on the restraints a bit. It only fanned his anger when the crowd bidding on him released another collective noise of approval.

When the bids passed six thousand, John spotted another group being led into the back of the square, several guards corralling them. But in the middle of the crowd, he caught sight of Rodney—chained, gagged, and naked except for his collar, which was still in place, albeit from the glimpse John caught there was a lock securing it.

John saw red again, and started to fight his bonds, forgetting the guards and the people. All he could see was Rodney, being touched and handled.

And suddenly one of the guards grabbed Rodney, startling him as they tugged him out from the group, a knife at his neck. Rodney's eyes finally found John and they widened in surprise.

The bidders were oblivious, their bids rising as they cheered as he fought the guards holding him in place.

John froze, shaking with rage. God damned fuckers! He wanted to kill every last god damned one of them, and would do it cheerfully. John met his lover's eyes, desperate to let him know how much he loved him, to make sure he knew not to give up.

Rodney blinked once, slowly, adding the smallest nod he dared. They held each other's gaze until the final mallet hit and the bidding concluded. John was hustled off the stage and right into the hands of the buyer that had been in to see him earlier, losing sight of Rodney in the crowds.

The man was angry—very angry—and quickly added ankle cuffs and a hobble to John. No way he was going to let his possession—expensive possession—run away. "You cost me seventy-five hundred rue and my master had better be happy with you or I will personally see to it that you are drawn and quartered."

John knew this man didn't care about Rodney, and that Hadrious didn't care if he behaved now that the sale was over. So he just glared.

He was shoved onto the back of a small wagon along with several others, the back doors closed and locked, plunging them into darkness. They started moving a moment later, the plodding gait of horses tugging them forward.

As soon as there were no guards with knives—or teammates being threatened—John started to struggle in earnest, twisting in his bonds, trying to find weaknesses.

The metal was strong, secure, the other slaves grumbling as he jostled them, John receiving a kick or an elbow in return.

He just kicked back. He really didn't care if he had a few new bruises. Hell, it might mean he wouldn't get fucking raped again right away.

After probably a half-hour of struggling—and a lot more kicks—John finally gave up. He was sure his wrists were raw, and they felt like they were starting to bleed from all his struggling. He was still gagged, and he had lost his team, lost Rodney. Sinking into the floor, he closed his eyes and tried to rest, knowing that now, he was going to have to wait and watch for a chance to escape.

***

Tugging at her bindings for the hundredth time, Teyla tried to crane her neck to see where they were taking Ronon and Rodney—each going in different directions as they left her gagged and bound in the metal cage.

She had heard of markets such as these were everything from goods to people were sold, but she had never seen one, let alone been part of one.

They'd left her alone more or less as long as she didn't fight them.

She watched everyone, trying to find a weakness, a way to get free. It did not pay to struggle until there was at least a hope of freedom. She knew how to bide her time and wait.

Rodney returned a time later, stripped naked with a trail of blood on his neck, resignation in his posture and his expression, the panic long gone. He was walked past her, his eyes drifted over her without recognition as he was led to another room, another building.

They were cattle, beasts to these people, even lower than possessions.

A man walked over to her cage, and she recognized him as one of the ones who had taken them. He glanced at a guard that had been left. "Hadrious wants this one prepped to go up at the same time as the pretty one."

"Keep her bound. She's been watching everything."

The new man rolled his eyes. "Like I'd do otherwise. Anyway, the pretty one has been fighting hard. Only threatening his lover made him stop. I'm not going to take any chances with the rest of them."

Teyla cringed inside, now knowing why Rodney looked the way he had when he was marched past, her heart going out to him. And John…John had to be beside himself. They unlocked the cage and yanked her out, not giving her much time to adjust to a standing position before she was shoved in the same direction Rodney had been taken.

She let him lead her, not giving him any trouble. She needed time and a plan and had neither.

He shoved her into a small tent—but not before she got a brief glimpse inside another pavilion nearby, seeing John naked, bound and looking furious. Then her view was obscured as several large, well-armed women took hold of her. "Don't give us any trouble and you won't get hurt."

She inclined her head toward the woman, keeping her eyes down. She knew how to act meek and mild if it was needed.

The woman grunted. "Good. There are guards all over, and if you try anything, you will be caught and punished swiftly." Teyla's arms were unbound. "Strip, or I'll cut it off you."

Teyla complied, keeping her movements slow and deliberate. She had no intention of getting injured for no reason. She tugged off her clothes and dropped them next to her in a pile until she was in nothing but skin.

The woman looked her over, nodding approvingly. "You're in good shape. Are you a virgin?"

Teyla sighed to herself and shook her head.

The woman gave her a sharp look for a long moment. "A virgin would bring us a higher price, but you're too old to be lying about something like that. You should still fetch a pretty price." She gestured, and two more female guards stepped forward with sponges and bowls.

Teyla raised her hand slowly, gesturing to the gag in her mouth.

The woman in charge looked Teyla over again, then nodded. One of the attendants removed the gag. "Just remember, you try anything, your life gets real hard, real fast."

She nodded, working her jaw a little to get the stiffness out of it. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. The better behaved you are and the better you look, the more money I make." She gestured, and the attendants approached Teyla, dipping the sponges in the bowls, and bringing them up with some sort of oil on them.

"I understand. May I ask a few questions?"

"As long as you don't resist while you do it and I don't promise to answer them." The woman had crossed her arms and was watching.

"I have no intention of getting harmed or harming any," she said, adding 'right now' to herself. There would be time for that later. "This is all…new to me and I am confused. I was unaware of your people and this market."

The guard snorted. "You're a warrior. I saw the weapons they took from your group. Just wait until you're sold to resist, and we'll get along fine. You'll go up for auction in a bit, and after that it's up to your owner as to what happens to you."

"You actually make money in this business?"

"Sales like you and the big fellow caught with you pay the bills. Its slaves like your pretty friend that will make us our fortune."

The other two were washing her and applying the oil as she spoke with the woman in charge. "But how can you simply kidnap people and sell them?"

"It's the way the universe works, dearie. The strong dominate the weak. I allied myself with the strong so I wouldn't be caught and sold myself."

"We weren't given the opportunity to defend ourselves."

"Can't risk damaging the merchandise. Especially the pretty one. He'll fetch a year's worth of pay all by himself at the pleasure market. I've already heard people who saw him brought in talking."

"And the rest of us?"

"You'll be put up on the pleasure market as well, although given your muscle tone... Kira, when you're done, go find Milkia. He was searching for someone to run his brothel, and this one might be just what he's looking for."

Teyla sighed. "And the others? There were four of us."

She shrugged. "The big fellow will probably be sold to someone looking for brute strength. The pudgy one…him I don't know. Hadrious is using him to control the pretty one right now, but after that? Depends on whether or not anyone can find a use for him. The pretty one... as I said, he'll bring in a pretty amount. He'll be sold to one of the courts most likely, to serve as a pleasure slave to one of the Masters. They prize exotic looks like that one has."

Teyla's stomach flipped a little at the woman's callous words. "And if no one can find a use for him?"

"That's up to Hadrious."

"Would you let him go?"

"No. They'll find a way to make money off him somehow. If no one will buy him as an individual slave, he'll be lumped into one of the large lots. People buy them cheap for the grunt work they don't care to spend a lot of money finding personnel for."

"And if he's not suited for that?"

"Then he'll die there most likely."

The women stepped back, finally finishing their assignment and heading out the door.

Her guard looked Teyla over carefully, finally nodding. She poked her head outside the tent, and a moment later led an older man in. "This is the one I sent them to tell you about. She was found with a group of warriors, and had weapons. Given her muscle tone, she knew how to use them."

Teyla settled her face in as emotionless an expression as possible. She hated this, hated these kinds of societies, but right now she had little choice or opportunity.

The man looked her over carefully, circling a few times. He reached out to squeeze her arms a few times, grunting. "Not bad. And not chained either I note. Is she well-behaved?"

"She has been, yes."

The man grunted again, looking Teyla directly in the eye. "I need a strong woman to run my brothel and keep the lads from getting fresh until they pay for the privilege. If I purchase you for that, no one will be allowed to touch you, and I would expect you to work. Any attempts to escape, and you would be thrown in with the other girls."

"What kind of work?" Teyla finally asked, returning the man's gaze evenly.

"Keep the rowdies from going upstairs until they've paid. Don't let them get too fresh with the girls on the floor—a little sampling is fine, but if they want more, they have to pay. If a fight breaks out, get my girls to safety and keep them unharmed."

"And you believe I can do this for you?"

"Can you? You're new to this life, and make no mistake; you would still be a slave. However, I am quite fond of my girls, and I've been searching for someone I can trust to keep them safe. The guards I have now are focused on other things. What I would offer will be far better than any other life you could be sold into."

"Would I have any freedom of movement?"

"That depends. For now, no. If I purchase you, you will be restricted to my establishment. Any attempts to leave, and I will either sell you or throw you to the wolves that nip at the edges of my bar. However, in time, if I believe you will not run, you could earn some freedoms."

"You say I'm a slave and yet, you ask me. You are contradictory."

He chuckled. "I'm an eccentric. And I'd rather spend my money on someone I can use. Throwing it away on maybes is a waste of resources."

"Buying humans is a waste of resources."

"Depends on your perspective I suppose. So? If I go to the trouble of trying to buy you, are you going to make me regret it?"

"I do not seem to have much choice in the matter," she finally said with a shrug.

He huffed, then turned to her guard. "Tell Hadrious I want to negotiate. I hate the auctions, so I'd rather do this ahead of time."

"It shall be done. How would you like her delivered?"

"Let's decide on a price first. I really don't fancy getting shafted again by the snake that runs your operation, Hilna. You should have accepted my offer and come to work for me."

"He pays better than you do. She'll be placed back in the pool until you decide," Hilna said with her own shrug.

"Then let's go get this taken care of now. Where can I find him? I have a few other new girls for the upstairs—once I agree to a price, have her sent there. I'll bring them all over together."

"Kira will take you to him. I have to secure this one again."

"Be gentle with her. I might not want her for the upstairs, but there's no sense harming her before I get her. No chains, Hilna, and no gag. I've seen the beasts those things have been on before."

"I have to do my job, Milkia."

He waved back at Teyla. "She's not going anywhere, and I won't be long." He slipped out.

Teyla glanced at Hilna, her expression thoughtful. "I have another question…a request."

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, but nodded consent.

"Would it be possible to speak to one of the men I was brought in with? I saw him before and I am worried about him."

Hilna shook her head. "No. Forget them, dearie. They don't exist to you anymore. You have a new life now, as do they."

"Please. It is the only thing I ask of you. This life…this is nothing that he could easily become accustomed to. He will fight you and undermine you. If I could speak to him, help him to understand what is happening and his place, it may prove to be beneficial for you."

Her expression softened, but she still shook her head. "It isn't up to me. The men are guarded by a different set, and I can tell you now Hadrious wouldn't approve it. Forget them. If he can adapt, he will survive. If not...nothing you can say will change his fate."

Teyla closed her eyes for a moment, making up her mind. When she opened them, she had a new determination, her muscles already tensing. "Then you may wish to chain and gag me, for my cooperation will be limited from this point onward."

Hilna sighed. "You're a smart one. You know that won't get you anywhere, and could condemn you to a lot worse fate than what's in store for you now. If you feel that strongly, wait until Milkia has closed your sale. Ask him. He's a bit of an odd one. He might even take you to the pens."

"My request will benefit you but you refuse to see it through. That is shortsighted and arrogant of you."

She shrugged. "Not my policy. And I know the one you're talking about. He's the lover of the pretty one, isn't he? Right now, to take you there could mean losing my place—and joining you on the auction. I'm not willing to risk that."

"Of that, I do not care." Teyla shifted her weight deliberately.

Hilna shrugged again, snapping her fingers. Three more guards were in the tent immediately. "Tie her hands and feet, but don't gag her. Potential buyer requested it."

As soon as the three got close enough, her hand shot out, striking one of them in the neck and she heard the snap of cartilage and smiled fiercely. Another received a kick in the stomach. The third backed off as she eyed her. "I will cooperate when my one request is permitted."

"Not a good way to go about it." Hilna called in more guards, and five of them overwhelmed Teyla, pinning her to the ground.

Milkia, of course, picked that moment to enter. "What is going on here?"

Hilna glanced over. "She decided to get uncooperative when we wouldn't let her see one of the other she was brought in with."

"Why did you not simply bring her to see the one she wished?"

"It's not allowed. Plus, I'm sure you've seen or heard about the beautiful man we brought in today. He was in her group as well. The one she wants to see is his lover, and Hadrious is using him to keep our merchandise in line. Taking a stroll to visit isn't on the agenda."

"And you'd rather upset me after I've agreed to purchase her in the state I saw her earlier? I could have you fired over this. Hadrious would not have argued with me. The buyer is always right, or so he has told me in the past."

Hilna narrowed her eyes. "I told her to wait until you'd bought her, then make the request. I figured you would allow it for the entertainment value alone, and then it isn't my problem. Not my fault she decided to be surly. Took out three guards already." She waved at the moaning men and women on the floor.

"And you only have yourself to blame for that. Get her up now."

Hilna snapped her fingers, and the men piled on top of Teyla rose, eyeing her warily. Milkia stepped over, eyeing her up and down. "I hope this was just lingering loyalty on your part, and not stupidity. I will be irritated if I just bought a stupid slave. You can recognize the one you wish to see on sight?"

Teyla nodded, getting her breath back. "And it should prove to you that I can defend myself and others if necessary."

He glanced at the moaners, then at all the men required to subdue her. "Impressive, yes. Misplaced at the moment, but impressive. Come then. I'll take you to see this fellow, then we can get out of here. The smell of the market is beginning to turn my stomach."

"She must be restrained," Hilna said, stepping up. "It is the law and not something I believe you wish to be caught breaking."

He rolled his eyes, pulling out a set of well-made leather cuffs and a matching collar. "I know the rules."

Teyla narrowed her eyes.

He caught the look. "I told you—you're still a slave. Don't make me regret buying you, or indulging you today. I'm taking you to see your friend before he's sold, but you will follow my rules doing it."

"Very well," she said after a long moment, nodding her head.

He attached the pieces, adding a slim leather leash to the collar, which was wrapped around his wrist. Her hands were secured in front of her this time at least. "I'll see you later, Hilna. Try not to get into too much trouble."

"I believe you may need the well-wishes," she said as he led Teyla out of the door. He paused a few rooms away, looking Teyla over carefully.

"I'll warn you now, no matter what shape your friend is in, there isn't anything I can do for him. I don't have the influence to purchase the one who will be auctioned as a pleasure slave, and as I understand it, the one you wish to see is his lover. That makes him a bargaining chip at the moment."

"I understand."

He began to walk again, setting a pace that didn't pull on the leash, allowing her to walk normally. "Despite what you think, I don't particularly like the slave markets or the way slaves are treated. I won't lie. I profit from it, but all my girls are questioned even as you were, and I don't buy anyone I think is unsuitable for what I wish them to do. Your friends, unfortunately, will not be so lucky."

"Then why remain here?"

"As I said, I profit from it. My brothel is one of the most popular in this part of the galaxy, precisely because I find girls who are both beautiful and willing. Some, like you, are slaves. Others come to me of their own free will. Those who do not are allowed to buy their freedom eventually if they choose. And while they are still slaves, I at least offer them a better life than anything else they would find at these markets."

Teyla sighed, shaking her head as they approached a large room filled with slaves and guards. She spotted Rodney at the far end, seated on a stool, a guard standing by his side. He was still bound and gagged, his feet even secured to the stool. They were taking no chances with John, but it seemed Rodney was getting the brunt of it.

Milkia followed her gaze. "I am truly sorry, my dear. I wish I could help him, but he is beyond what I can do." He led her over to the guards. "I wish to examine this one, and I dislike an audience. Go wait by the door."

"Which one?"

Milkia rolled his eyes. "I despair for Hadrious that he must deal with such simpletons. Would I be standing in front of this one," he waved his hand at Rodney, "if he wasn't the one I was interested in?"

"I have my orders."

Teyla glanced over at her friend, finally able to see him up close for the first time in a few hours. He looked tired and pale, generally unhappy.

"And those include not allowing prospective buyers to examine the merchandise. Don't be stupid. I'm not asking you to untie him, or even leave the room. Just go stand over by the door so I don't have to smell you. I won't be long."

The guard narrowed his eyes for a moment before finally moving off, leaving Teyla and Milkia alone with Rodney who hadn't even looked up at them.

Milkia reached out, tipping Rodney's face up, far more gently than Teyla would have expected. She saw the scientists eyes widen when he saw her. "I'm sorry, lad, but there isn't much I can do for you. I've bought your friend, and I agreed to bring her by to say goodbye."

"Can you take out the gag so we can converse?" Teyla asked quietly, quickly continuing when Milkia turned an annoyed expression on her. "Please. I may never get another opportunity."

He hesitated. "If this causes me problems, I'm adding it to your price." He reached around, tugging the gag free.

"Thank you," she whispered, bending slightly so she could look Rodney in the eyes. He was moving his jaw slightly, trying to get it working once again.

"Rodney? We do not have much time, so I must speak quickly."

"Teyla? What…John...They have John and they're—"

"Shhh. I know. And at the moment there is not much either of us can do. You must do whatever is asked of you, and keep yourself safe. As deplorable as it is, you must try to get yourself sold. The alternative is large lots of slaves sold for the poorest of jobs."

"But," he started shaking his head, some of his panic returning. "I can't…not anything I planned for…trained for. I’m going to die here aren't I? They took John, Teyla…used him and made me watch."

She cupped his face, trying to ground him. "I know. I saw some, and have guessed more. You must keep yourself alive. They do not plan to sell you for the same purpose as John. You must try to get yourself sold to someone looking for an intellectual. We will find a way home, Rodney, but you must stay strong and alive so you can be rescued."

"We are so screwed," he whispered, leaning into her touch.

"You must not give up hope. We have many friends, and while his situation is the most uncomfortable among us, John is strong. He will do whatever is necessary to return to you, and you must be alive and well for him."

"I know…but I also know I’m going to die here. People like me don't last in places like this. I’m a genius. I know these things."

"Yes, you are a genius—and that is more valuable than any looks. Find a way to use that to your advantage. Do not let yourself get so lost in melancholy that you cease looking for a way to survive."

He blinked once, before turning his wide blue eyes on her again. "I’m already hungry."

Her eyes widened. She had forgotten about that in the rush of everything. Looking to Milkia she tried to communicate her distress. "Please, he must eat every few hours or he will die. I know he is not yours, but surely having him die when simply allowing him a bit of food is the last thing these slavers wish."

He shook his head. "That's not their way. They feed and water the stock twice a day. Too costly to add more times."

"Then he will suffer, and any hope they have of making a profit on him will fall away."

"I can ask when we leave, but I doubt it will help."

"Please," Rodney said, turning his wide eyes on Milkia. "I don't want to die."

Teyla saw the man—her owner now—melt a little. "I will do what I can. But as I told her, there is little I can do here. And we are short on time. I am sorry, and she is right—your best bet is to use any advantage you can to be sold individually. Those sold in the lot sales rarely survive the week."

"Can't you buy me?"

Milkia shook his head. "I do not deal in men." He hesitated as Rodney's eyes went bright with unshed tears. "I am too soft. I will see what I can do. But I make no promises."

"Thank you," Rodney whispered, his head dropping down. Teyla heard the footfalls of the guard a moment later.

"Are you done yet? And I thought you weren't going to touch his bonds." The man tugged the gag back into place harshly.

Rodney groaned, his eyes closing tightly as the guard tightened the gag, making sure Rodney couldn't spit it out.

Teyla wished she could reach out again, offer comfort. But for now, she could do nothing. Milkia looked at them both, shaking his head. "We both know Hadrious will have a hard time selling this one. I have a use for one such as him, however. What is his asking price?"

"I don't know. You have to ask Hadrious, but they're going to be going to the auction block shortly. You're running out of time."

"Gah. Fine. Where can I find him?"

"He's getting ready to take the first batch out. And I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Milkia nodded. "I will find him then. Thank you." Tugging on Teyla's leash, he led her without comment to a group of women, guarded by a bored-looking man. "You must stay here. I will make an attempt for your friend, but for now, you can do nothing except what Gash orders." He handed the leash to the guard.

"I understand and thank you, but please, he needs to eat."

Milkia nodded again, then disappeared back into the crowd.

The other two women were silent, standing obediently, barely moving a muscle even as Teyla tried to see back into the room she'd just left. The guard was back at Rodney's side, ignoring him and guarding him at the same time.

After a few moments, another sight caught her attention. John...

He was glistening as he was marched past, his body oiled and beautiful, even restrained as he was. He was headed to the block—or so she assumed—since Hadrious was leading him there himself.

She saw his eyes roaming, stopping when he caught sight of her. She had never seen him so angry, so dangerous. The things she had heard, that only threats to Rodney were keeping him in check, she did not doubt now.

They moved him past her quickly, out into the central market. Gash tugged at her leash a few moments later. "We're going."

She swallowed, nodding once. She could not help John right now, and she had done what she could for Rodney. With a heavy heart, she turned, following with only a brief backwards glance and a prayer to the Ancestors to keep her friends safe until they could be rescued.

***

Ronon Dex jerked against his bonds. He was furious that they had been caught, furious that even with a common enemy like the Wraith, humans still felt the need to attack each other. He was used to it by now, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

They had stripped him, finding most of his knives. The ones left were hidden in his hair, and he couldn't get to them at the moment. And even if he could, it wouldn't get him and his team free. It surprised him, that he was as concerned for them as for himself. That hadn't happened in a long time.

The noise of the crowd picked up, so Ronon looked around. Through a gap in the bodies, he suddenly saw Sheppard—naked except for a few bits of gold in strategic locations, skin glistening with some sort of oil. He was gagged and looked furious.

In the next heartbeat, Ronon put a few things together, and started to growl. He met Sheppard's eye, saw the recognition, the rage, as he was pulled out of Ronon's line of sight. A few minutes later, his team leader was brought onto the large stage nearby, and these poor excuses for humanity started to bid on him.

He had yet to see what had happened to Teyla or McKay, but from his own situation he knew it couldn't be good. He'd seen these kinds of markets before. They moved often, changing planets and systems weekly. Slavers were always looked down upon, and yet they continued to prosper. The sale of flesh paid well.

He watched the sale of his team leader, making note of all those bidding, trying to burn their faces into his memory when he could get a good look at them. Eventually, he would hunt them all down. Doubly so for the slavers. He watched them push something into Sheppard, taking him by surprise and startling a noise out of him. The crowd let out a collective, hungry sigh.

A commotion on the other side of the square drew Ronon's attention as a group of slavers were ushered in—another lot for sale. Sheppard, though, immediately started fighting. Glancing between the stage and the crowd, Ronon finally found the source of Sheppard's ire: McKay.

The scientist was yanked from the crowd, a knife pushed to his throat. On stage, Sheppard froze, although even from here Ronon could see the man's muscles jumping with the effort. Ah. So that was how they were getting as much cooperation as they were. Ronon had to admit, he had thought Sheppard wasn't really fighting them, not as hard as he could have been.

The bidding continued at an even faster rate, but Sheppard's attention was focused on the scientist, remaining there until he was finally bundled off the stage after winning the slaver an enormous price. Once Sheppard was on the ground level, it was hard to follow him as he was herded off the market grounds, the buildings and people obscuring his view.

Ronon growled, rattling his bars and restraints again, trying to break free. One of the guards finally noticed him and banged on the side of the cage, making Ronon glare.

"You're up next and you had better bring a good profit. You're not worth our trouble."

As much as his gag would allow, Ronon gave the man a wolfish look. He would do everything in his power to make the slavers'—and whoever was foolish enough to buy him—lives a misery.

The guard though, simply smiled at him. "I know the perfect master for you, slave. Teach you your place."

Ronon doubted it. If, in seven years, the Wraith hadn't managed to break him, a stupid man with a whip wasn't going to do it. At the first available opportunity, Ronon would slit the throats of anyone who got in his way, and head out to collect his team.

The guard turned, obviously looking for the final signal to bring the next group to the stage for sale. At the same time, another crowd passed by—the one that McKay was in. Ronon scanned the faces, finally finding the scientist looking pale and shaky as he was marched past, a guard at his side.

Ronon kicked the side of his cage hard enough to make the scientist jump and glance over. Ronon held his eye for a few heartbeats. Of all of them, he knew McKay was the least suited to surviving until they could all escape. And Sheppard would probably go berserk if anything happened to the man. While it had never been stated outright, Ronon had no doubts that they were lovers.

Rodney blinked once, recognition slowly filtering in just as he was tugged away, stumbling slightly when he tripped over his own feet.

Ronon had seen the blood on McKay's neck, and from the look in his eye… There was no doubt this was how these people had controlled Sheppard. It was a liability to have such a connection, but at the same time, Ronon wasn't stupid. Without that tie, Sheppard would probably be dead, unable to stop fighting what was being done to him.

He watched the group being led to another waiting area, each of the slaves tethered in place so they wouldn't wander off. McKay was out of his direct line of sight, but at least he knew where he was.

And that was when his guards appeared, unlocking the cages of his fellow slaves.

Ronon tensed as they got closer to his cage. If he fought, he might be able to win his way free. But he might not. These men were heavily armed, and he didn't know if the slavers knew the same threats that controlled Sheppard would work for Ronon. The soldier wouldn't thank him if he got McKay killed because he fought when Sheppard himself had allowed his body to be used to spare the scientist.

It was a difficult decision. He wanted to fight, but for once in his life he had a choice. He cared about what happened to the others.

When his cage was opened, he struggled a bit, but didn't draw a knife. Yet. He would wait until he could escape without putting his teammates in danger, and then come back for them. Instead, he took the opportunity to look around, using his superior height to try and pick out faces in the crowd.

He was fourth in line to be sold, which gave him time to scout the area, find its weaknesses. He had yet to find Teyla and hoped that she was still alive. Without being too obvious, he focused on the other slave group, finally spotting McKay once again—toward the rear of the group, slumped on a stool. The man guarding him had placed his hand on his neck, his fingers wrapping around.

Ronon watched as another man—this one not a slave—approached the guards. He gestured at Rodney a few times, and McKay himself seemed to perk up a bit. That was interesting. But before he could see what happened, Ronon was shuffled onto the stage, losing sight of the scientist.

The bidding went quickly and he managed to get a thousand rue for the slaver before he was shoved back down to the ground level, additional restraints added to him as he was placed in yet another area, secured to a thick beam. A waiting area.

After a while, a new man, riding some sort of beast, came into the area. He was dressed all in black, and had a mean-looking whip on his belt. "You are all now my property. You will work, and work hard, or you will die. Any attempts to rebel will be met with swift punishment the first time and death the second."

They were released one at a time under the watchful eye of the man on the horse, each slave secured to another in a long line.

When it was Ronon's turn, the overseer—that was what Ronon was pretty sure the man was—looked him over carefully, taking in his body and expression. From the evil glint, he knew the Ancestors were against him when it came to escaping notice long enough to make a clean escape.

The man tapped his horse with his heels, maneuvering toward Ronon, his eyes taking him in. "My buyer did well with you. You're worth far more than he paid."

Since he was still wearing a gag, Ronon just gave the man an impassive stare. He had perfected the art of being intimidating without actually saying anything, so the temporary loss of speech was really no great hardship.

"Chilton, see that this one is secured. I have several special projects he'd be perfect for."

Letting the gag hide his predatory smile, Ronon simply went with the flow for now. Once they were away from the market and the threat to his teammates, it was going to be fun teaching these…pieces of shit—to use an Earth term—the true meaning of 'special projects'.

***

Rodney McKay was terrified.

It was hard to feel anything else past that, he decided as he knelt in a small metal cage, unable to move and barely able to breath with the foulest tasting gag in his mouth. God only knows how many others had it in their mouths before him, how many diseases and germs it was carrying.

Teyla and Ronon were still close, but John had been taken somewhere else away from there. Their captors had taken a perverse interest in him from the beginning.

The longer he looked around—panicking silently—the more the realization of where they were and what they were settled in. His mind spun faster and faster wondering what that meant for them.

John and Teyla would be used for sex. Of that, he was certain. They were beautiful and much more exotic looking than any of the mongrel-like people here. Even with their flowing robes and colorful jewelry, it was hard to hide their homeliness.

Ronon…it was a toss-up for him. They could use him for his muscles or for sex. It depended upon the tastes of the buyer he guessed.

And that left him. A pudgy, balding scientist with no redeeming qualities. He was a dead man.

The guards returned at that point, dragging him out of his cage and to another room where he was surprised to find John—naked and restrained—a man circling around him like a predator.

John looked up, his eyes widening slightly as he realized Rodney was there. The jerking he had been doing against his bonds stopped abruptly.

Rodney knew his eyes were open wide as he stared at his lover, his partner, as John was untied and secured to a suspension system, his hands above his head. He saw the other man pull out a dildo and Rodney felt his breath stop for a moment when he realized that they were going to do to John—what they were going to do to John right in front of him. He went to move, but discovered the knife at his throat, the blade cold and sharp.

John had started to resist, getting the picture as to what was about to happen at the same time as Rodney. The knife pricked Rodney's neck, however, and John froze, panting, as the object was pushed inside him. He locked his eyes on Rodney, desperation, fear, and anger making the hazel eyes dark.

Rodney ached for his lover. Wanting nothing but to do something to help him, to stop this from happening, but he also had no intention of having his throat cut. Instead, he focused on John, falling a little into his eyes, trying to block out everything else.

He could see the fight going on in John's head, and the knife was adjusted, making him close his eyes briefly. Then he latched on to Rodney's eyes with almost desperation. He was hard, and from the way they were working him, were touching him, Rodney knew this wasn't going to end until they had made John come.

And come he did. The buyer wasn't pleased in the least, but what did he expect? It was against his will. No one would perform well under these kinds of situations. And they were trapped, captured, outmaneuvered, slaves, possessions. Rodney could feel the resignation beginning to overwhelm him.

They were never going home again.

John's eyes caught and held his again. The position was bad, but Rodney felt himself automatically responding as John shifted his posture, invoking his rights over Rodney as the top. And the command in his eyes was clear—don't give up, don't stop fighting.

The buyer finally left, leaving John and Rodney alone with the other two men. Rodney's guard tugged him a little closer, the blade never wavering as the other man removed the ring on John's cock, replacing it with something tighter and from the sound of it, much more uncomfortable before turning his attention to Rodney.

"Now, what about you? I’m not sure we can fix you."

John made a strangled noise, drawing attention back to him. Rodney saw the moment of hesitation before his lover's posture changed completely, going slinky and so damn hot it would have had him panting in other circumstances. John's eyes flicked to Rodney again before he stiffened, returning to the tight, barely restrained posture from before. Oh god, John was basically offering the full use of his body to... to…

Oh god. No, John, no. No! Rodney wanted to shake his head, to scream at the other man that he wasn't worth it, but the only thing he could do was stand there with his eyes open wide in shock and horror.

The other man kept his eyes on John as he gave his next order. "Get his clothes off. Let's see what we have to work with."

John made another protesting noise, jerking hard in his restraints.

And then John was fighting back, managing to catch the guard in his groin. But at the same time, Rodney felt himself falling, his own guard twisting and pushing him until Rodney was on the ground on his back, his arms trapped between him and the hard ground. Hands were on his pants, the knife pressing against skin as his clothes were cut away. And then it was at the base of his cock.

Oh god, no!

He tried to yell around the gag in his mouth, but all that emerged was a muffled squawk. But it was enough to stop John in his tracks.

He watched John's eyes go wide, the muscles in his chest twitching as he tried to hold himself completely still.

Rodney could see the rage, the anger in his lover's eyes. The possessiveness. "Do we need to make him a eunuch for you to behave?"

John held their captors eye, then finally shook his head before letting it fall to his chest.

Rodney tried to stay as still as possible, the knife still pressed against him. One slip and things would be very different for him. The other man gestured again and Rodney quickly found himself naked, the rest of his clothes cut deftly from his body.

The man—probably the slaver himself— looked him over, his gaze finally resting on his neck. On John's mark. Oh god.

He turned to John at that moment, a smirk on his face. His voice all-knowing. "That is why you fight for him."

John just glared.  Rodney could see his lover's entire body humming with tension.

As Rodney panicked silently—for himself and John—the other man was talking, telling John something, but Rodney wasn't listening. That mark…he'd put John in a terrible position. Used as a pawn to keep his lover under control.

The next thing he knew, he was being hauled to his feet and pulled away from John, back where he'd come from with barely any hope in sight.

They marched him to a large room where another twenty slaves were being prepared. He was placed at the far end, forced to sit on a hard, cold stool where his feet were then secured to its legs. It wasn't like he was going anywhere.

He slumped, trying to get things straightened in his own mind, but he felt disconnected, fuzzy. He probably needed to eat, but who knew if slaves were even fed. He assumed they had to be, but this was a different world, a different life.

A life that would kill him as surely as a bullet to his brain.

After a while, a surprisingly gentle hand cupped his face, forcing him to look up.

He found himself looking into the tired and kind eyes of another man, his flowing robes brushing against his skin. "I'm sorry, lad, but there isn't much I can do for you. I've bought your friend, and I agreed to bring her by to say goodbye."

Friend? He glanced to the side, surprised to see Teyla—a very naked Teyla—standing beside the man.

"Can you take out the gag so we can converse?" Teyla asked quietly, continuing a moment later when then turned shot her an annoyed look. "Please. I may never get another opportunity."

He hesitated, but finally nodded, reaching to loosen the knot at the back of Rodney's head. "If this causes me problems, I'm adding it to your price."

"Thank you," Teyla whispered, inclining her head toward the other man before she leaned down, looking at Rodney directly as he tried to ease the ache in his jaw.

"Rodney? We do not have much time, so I must speak quickly." Teyla looked intense, although she hadn't been hurt yet. Thank god.

Even though he knew she could take care of herself—far better than he could take care of himself—he worried about her and John…and oh, god, John. "Teyla? What…John...they have John and they're—"

She touched him, her fingers warm and grounding. "Shhh. I know. And at the moment there is not much either of us can do. You must do whatever is asked of you, and keep yourself safe. As deplorable as it is, you must try to get yourself sold. The alternative is large lots of slaves sold for the poorest of jobs."

Sold. Oh god. No. Sold was bad. He shook his head, feeling his heart rate pick up. "But, I can't…not anything I planned for…trained for. I’m going to die here, aren't I? They took John, Teyla…used him and made me watch."

Her fingers moved to his face, forcing him to focus on her. "I know. I saw some, and have guessed more. You must keep yourself alive. They do not plan to sell you for the same purpose as John. You must try to get yourself sold to someone looking for an intellectual. We will find a way home, Rodney, but you must stay strong and alive so you can be rescued."

He heard what she was saying. Knew she was right. But he also knew how wrong she was. They were never going home. Never see anyone again.

"We are so screwed," he whispered, leaning into her touch.

She smiled at him, her fingers curling slightly around his jaw, offering comfort. It wasn't as good as John, but he would take what he could get. "You must not give up hope. We have many friends, and while his situation is the most uncomfortable among us, John is strong. He will do whatever is necessary to return to you, and you must be alive and well for him."

"I know…" he said, putting emphasis on his words, making sure she understood. "But I also know I’m going to die here. People like me don't last in places like this. I’m a genius. I know these things."

"Yes, you are a genius—and that is more valuable than any looks. Find a way to use that to your advantage. Do not let yourself get so lost in melancholy that you cease looking for a way to survive."

He wished she was right, but he knew better, knew himself, and knew what would be his own undoing. "I’m already hungry."

He watched comprehension form in her eyes, as she turned to the man who had bought her. "Please, he must eat every few hours or he will die. I know he is not yours, but surely having him die when simply allowing him a bit of food is the last thing these slavers wish."

The man shook his head and Rodney knew he was dead. They were cattle, lucky to be fed once a day with just enough food to keep a normal person alive. "That's not their. They feed and water the stock twice a day. Too costly to add more times."

"Then he will suffer, and any hope they have of making a profit on him will fall away." Teyla shook her head, refusing to give in.  
  
The man sighed, shrugging slightly. "I can ask when we leave, but I doubt it will help."

"Please," Rodney said, not ashamed to beg or plead. He turned his gaze on the man, trying to get him to see, to understand. "I don't want to die."

His eyes widened slightly, and he looked hard at Rodney. Finally, he sighed again. "I will do what I can. But as I told her, there is little I can do here. And we are short on time. I am sorry, and she is right—your best bet is to use any advantage you can to be sold individually. Those sold in the lot sales rarely survive the week."

Oh god, oh god, oh god. Sold. He was going to be sold. Trapped as a slave until he finally died. But if it was going to happen, maybe at least he could be with Teyla—at least for a little while. "Can't you buy me?"

The man shook his head. "I do not deal in men." He hesitated as Rodney felt his eyes widen, felt the tears hanging in his eyes. "I am too soft. I will see what I can do. But I make no promises."

"Thank you," Rodney whispered as he spotted the guard returning, knowing Teyla was leaving him here. She had no choice. He dropped his head down to his chest, resigned to his fate.

"Are you done yet? And I thought you weren't going to touch his bonds." The guard was talking to Teyla's owner, and he roughly tugged the gag back into place in Rodney's mouth.

Rodney groaned. If possible the gag tasted worse than before and he closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on not throwing up. The guard tightened it again, knotting it securely, the leather digging into his cheek.

Teyla's eyes were bright, silently telling him not to give up hope. Her owner, however, was still talking with the guard. "We both know Hadrious will have a hard time selling this one. I have a use for one such as him, however. What is his asking price?"

The guard shrugged callously. "I don't know. You have to ask Hadrious, but they're going to be going to the auction block shortly. You're running out of time."

"Gah. Fine. Where can I find him?"

"He's getting ready to take the first batch out." The guard's posture changed as he straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest as he took up the position he'd been in before. "And I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"I will find him then. Thank you." Without a backwards glance, the man tugged on a leash attached to a slim collar around Teyla's neck. With another quick backwards look, she offered a small smile, and then disappeared out the door.

He was alone again and that didn't make him feel any better about the situation. Teyla was right. He needed to stay strong, but it was so hard. While his mind might want to stay strong, his body was another matter entirely.

The guard fiddled with his metal collar and Rodney heard a quiet click, knowing immediately that the guard had locked his collar—John's collar—in place. He could feel the cool touch of metal against his skin when the guard let go.

The guard poked him before starting to unhook the bonds. "Hey you, get up. We have to take you to the lot with the others waiting to be auctioned."

He stumbled once, the guard catching his arm and steadying him.

The man grabbed his face roughly, peering into his eyes. "What the hell? You were healthy an hour ago!"

He moaned a little, trying to tell the guard what was wrong without speaking. That was a challenge.

The man narrowed his eyes, then harshly pulled the gag free. "Speak up. I'm not losing my share of the profits because I let you get sick."

"I…I have a medical condition. I have to eat several times a day or I'll die."

The man's eyes narrowed further as he looked hard at Rodney. Pulling a bar of some type out of his vest he unwrapped it, broke off a piece and shoved it in Rodney's mouth. "Wait to get sick until after you're bought. If it wasn't for the fact that we need you to control your pretty lover, I'd just kill you now. More trouble than you're worth."

Rodney chewed the bar—it didn't taste as horrible as it smelled. "Thank you," he whispered, once he swallowed it down.

The guard grunted, and tied the gag back into place. "Come on. I have a schedule to keep."

While the bite was barely enough to keep him going, it was more than what he'd had and Rodney was in no position to complain. He was herded along with a group of ten or fifteen other slaves—all naked—outside into the market square. He concentrated on keeping himself upright and not stepping on anything sharp. He didn't need to slice open his foot on a rock and bleed to death.

A commotion made him look up—only to lock eyes with John, who was on a stage, still bound, his body shining with something, gold setting off all the things Rodney loved most about his body. John's eyes were flashing, and he had started to fight again, never letting his gaze stray from Rodney's face.

But a moment later, he found himself tugged out from the crowd, a knife once again pressed to his neck. This was getting old fast, but it certainly made John pay attention.

The crowd, which he had just noticed, seemed to be letting out collective sighs at John's performance. Rodney felt a little sick when he realized these people were bidding on John, buying him. For his part, Sheppard himself just continued to look at Rodney, his eyes flashing with love and strength and anger again.

Rodney blinked once, slowly, adding the smallest nod he dared. He wanted John to know that he understood, that he loved him, that he didn't blame him for anything. They held each other's gaze until the final mallet hit and the bidding concluded. John was hustled off the stage and immediately out of his sight.

As soon as John was gone, Rodney was shoved back in with the other slaves, head down again, until a loud bang made him glance up. In a cage nearby, Ronon was watching him, looking every inch the captive warrior prince out of a bad b-level movie.

He wasn't able to do more than acknowledge the man before he was tugged away, heading to another section of the market where he was secured and tied. His guard stayed at his side, a hand on his shoulder, every now and then checking his pulse and temperature. Until he was sold, there was a reason to keep him alive and well.

The man from earlier, the one that had been with Teyla, reappeared. "Where in Sketti's name is Hadrious? I don't have all day, and I want to buy that slave." He flicked a finger at Rodney.

Really? Rodney sat up, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked at the other man as the guard answered the question. "Finalizing the sales. You should have thought about buying this one when you saw him before. I had to give him some of my food in order make sure he stayed on his feet."

The man's eyes flicked at Rodney, then returned to the guard. "As you recall, I did try to buy him. And I have been for the past half-hour." He pulled out a small pouch of coins. "I'll give you twenty rue and take him off your hands now."

"He's up for at least one hundred."

"We both know he'll never go for that. He's not built to be a pleasure slave, and he doesn't have the muscles for a work slave. He has a glimmer of intelligence about him, but there isn't much call for smart slaves. I only need him because I'm in need of someone who has a marginal understanding of basic math to balance my books. Twenty rue is a generous offer."

"It's not my place to make a deal. You have to take it up with Hadrious within the next five minutes," the guard said, glancing toward the stage. "It's about time for him to go up."

Muttering what sounded like a curse, the buyer pointed a finger at Rodney's guard. "Don't sell him out from under me or I will make you regret it." With a huff, he turned to stalk towards where the guard had pointed.

Maybe this would work. Maybe he'd at least be with Teyla. For the first time in hours Rodney felt the glimmer of hope. With his eyes on the stage outside, Rodney watched as slave after slave was sold—Ronon fetching a pretty good price before he was hustled off the stage and out of Rodney's sight.

And then the auctions were declared closed for the afternoon, to reopen in several hours for the evening sales. Before he could process what that meant, the slaver who had been with John and the man who had bought Teyla strode back into view. "...unhappy. I've been trying to find you to negotiate this for the last hour. I was not scheduled to stay for the evening sales."

"That's not my problem. I want a minimum of two hundred for him now."

"On what grounds? I'm all for negotiating, but I'm well aware that his value was in how your pretty slave reacted to him. That one has been sold now. I'm probably the only one who will make an offer for this one. Fifty rue."

"There's always tomorrow. I have no intention of lowering my price until I am certain I can't get what I want."

The buyer narrowed his eyes. "Fine. Put the two hundred on my account then. I do not wish to wait around. This will, however, affect my dealings with you in the future."

"Cash only."

"What? Since when? You have always accepted credit on all sales over fifty."

"Not today. Besides, you're far too eager, Milkia."

"This is outrageous, Hadrious. I am trying to purchase a slave, and you know my credit is good. I was searching for an intelligent slave for work that needs to get done as soon as possible, and I dislike the markets. I have no wish to return here tomorrow. I have been a good customer over the years and have given you a lot of money."

Hadrious shrugged, a smirk on his face. "If you want him so badly, you'll come back for him."

"You are getting cocky and forgetting your place, Hadrious. Whatever you think of yourself and your standing, you are still at the low end of the hierarchy. To be obstinate now could lose you thousands later—and if you begin to lose money, your men will feed you to the same market you exploit now."

The slaver shrugged again. "I'll worry about it when the time comes. I'm known far and wide for the slaves I sell. This is just one backwater planet." He moved, blocking Rodney's view of Milkia. "I suggest you come back tonight if you are interested in purchasing this slave."

"I will return in the morning for him. I do not have the cash on hand, and since you will not accept credit today, I will have to return to my holding to procure it. Have him ready for me at first light."

"First come, first served, Milkia. First come, first served—and whoever has the largest wallet."

Rodney heard an annoyed huff. "I will be most put out with you if you sell him out from under me, Hadrious. Have him ready at first light." Rodney saw the swirl of robes as Teyla's owner turned and left.

A few beats later and Hadrious turned to look at him, his eyes drifting over his body. The guard stepped in a moment later. "He claims he's sick."

"Sick? He looks healthy to me."

"He's actually paler than he was. I didn't think it possible. He also was having an issue concentrating before. Add that to his appearance and you're not going to get what you want out of him."

Hadrious grunted. Reaching out, he rolled one of Rodney's nipples between his fingers. "All the more reason to sell him quickly then. Go fetch Lilias and tell her to bring a pair of the hoops. He isn't badly built, so a little embellishment won't hurt. We'll put him up in the evening auction and see what comes of it."

Rodney moaned, shaking his head, but his body responded to the touch far more than he wanted it to.

Hadrious raised an eyebrow. "Well now. He is far more responsive than his lover was. Much better trained." Hadrious continued to fondle Rodney, his other hand coming up to push on John's mark.

Groaning, Rodney felt himself hardening even as he tried to will his erection down. He whimpered as his nipple was pinched.

Hadrious laughed, a cruel sound. "I had wondered why someone with such stunning looks would choose a partner like this. Now I think I know. Tell Lilias to bring the hoops with the small sapphires on them. They'll match his eyes, and with his response, perhaps we can get a bit more for him than I anticipated."

Rodney tried to squirm away from his touch, but Hadrious' guard put a hand on the back of his neck, holding him in place. McKay growled in complaint, but had no choice but to take it. This should be John touching him.

Hadrious chuckled again. Only stepping back when a curvy woman with flowing robes came over. "You called for me?"

"We need to get his nipples pierced. Also, anything else you can do to get him to look better," Hadrious said, gesturing to Rodney as he shook his head. No. Piercings were bad. He didn't need any more holes in his body.

She eyed him carefully. "Let's see how these look, then go from there. Hold him, Saldus." She pulled out a needle and two hoops, each with a small blue sapphire strung on them.

Rodney howled even before she touched him, struggling to get free even though he knew he wasn't going to be able to get away.

The guard pulled out the knife again, pressing it to Rodney's throat. Hadrious stared at him impassively. "The more you struggle, the worse it will be."

He stilled, panting around the gag as he started to panic.

With a disdainful glance, the woman stepped forward, quickly running the needle through each of his nipples and securing the rings in place.

He whimpered, wanting to curl up, needing to get away from the pain, but the guard held him tightly.

Hadrious gave each ring a tug, making Rodney howl into his gag. Much to his shame, he felt himself getting hard again. The slaver chuckled cruelly again. "Yes, very responsive. I wonder, just how well did our pretty little find train you? From the looks of it, fairly well, surprisingly. Do you come on command?"

Rodney refused to answer, scowling as best he could as he moaned from pain and embarrassment.

Reaching down, Hadrious began to stroke him as his erection lengthened and hardened in the slaver's hand. "Let's see then shall we? Come."

Even though he didn't want to, Rodney felt his body responding, betraying him. The release was sweet and painful as he spilled over Hadrious' hand. Rodney's face flushed as he panted, body relaxing slightly.

"Oh, very nice. I'm going to make a lot more off you than I originally thought." Wiping his hand on a cloth, the slaver smirked down at him. "Throw him in with the lot that will go up this evening."

"Did you want anything else done to him? I can pierce his cock if you want. I have a barbell we can use. Maybe an earring to match his collar?" Lilias was looking at him carefully, her eyes flowing over Rodney's body as she sized him up.

Hadrious pursed his lips. "Perhaps. Hold that off however. Let's see if we can't get a buyer with him like this. I'd rather not throw away the jewelry if we don't have to."

She nodded. "I have a cock ring you can use. It came off another slave we got in a trade. It will probably match his collar. I probably have some chains, too."

"Perfect. Have him ready for display in an hour. I'll see if I can't round up a few potential investors for a preview."

"I'll be right back, Saldus. See that he doesn't go anywhere." She turned on her heel, her robes flowing around her as she marched out the door leaving him alone with Hadrious and Saldus—his guard, apparently.

Hadrious reached down, almost caressing Rodney's face. "Perhaps, if you behave, I'll even feed you before you go on sale. Saldus, make sure Lilias has all the access she needs to prepare him. If he resists, you know what to do."

"I know," Saldus said with a dirty chuckle. "She'll get anything she needs."

Rodney moaned, turning his head away from Hadrious' touch.

With another knowing smirk, the slaver left.

Lilias returned a few minutes later carrying a metal briefcase of sorts that opened up to reveal an assortment of jewelry. She picked out a cock ring that matched John's collar, glancing at his soft dick. "Hold him while I put this on."

Saldus gripped Rodney hard, using a knee in the small of his back to ensure he wasn't going anywhere. Lilias forced the ring on. Once it was on, Rodney was mortified to realize he was half-hard again from it.

He moaned, squirming against the guard as Lilias added a chain from the cock ring to the nipple rings, joining the three together.

Nodding, satisfied, she walked out again, returning a moment later with a bowl and sponge. Over the next half-hour, every part of Rodney was oiled. She even had Saldus stand him up, pushing a finger just inside him to coat his entrance. She made approving noises at finding him semi-loose. "He's been taken this way before, and often from the feel of it. Hadrious will be pleased."

"He probably loved it. It was probably the only way he got any. He was eager for it," Saldus said, laughing. "Too bad you don't have one of those big plugs."

She laughed, crudely. "If he doesn't sell tonight, I'll find one. We'll bend him over and show the buyers just how much he can take. That, along with his training to come on command, should fetch a pretty price. Not as much as his lover, but he'll be a good sell."

Rodney moaned, shaking his head, mortified by the conversation about his body's reactions.

Saldus looked behind Rodney and then nodded. "Right then. Looks like Hadrious has some potential buyers ready for a preview. Let's go string him up and see what they say." Rodney was brought into the tent where they had held John earlier, attached to the same suspension bar they had used on John.

Rodney closed his eyes, trying to block out everything that was going on. He was feeling shaky, knew his blood sugar was beginning to plummet again. Maybe he wouldn't have to live through this humiliation.

Saldus, however, must have noticed. Rodney's gag was pulled down, and another piece of the bar from earlier was shoved into his mouth. "Eat. It brought back your color earlier."

He moved to spit out the food, but Saldus shoved a hand over his mouth.

"No, you don't. Swallow it." He pinched Rodney's nose, cutting off his air supply until his throat worked reflexively, swallowing what was in his mouth. With a sneer, the guard took his hands away, putting the gag back in place.

Rodney growled, shooting him a look that usually struck fear into the hearts of his staff. But then, he usually wasn't naked, pierced, or chained to the ceiling.

Saldus just smirked, then stepped aside as Hadrious, along with three other men, entered the tent. Two wore the same flowing robes most of the people in the market seemed to favor. The third was cold, and had on some kind of uniform, so different from the others.

Rodney turned his head away, trying his best to ignore what was going on.

Hadrious spoke briefly with Saldus, then walked over to Rodney, a hand coming to rest on his ass. "Now I know he isn't much to look at, but what he lacks in beauty, he makes up for in responsiveness." A finger slid down his crack to tease at his entrance as the slaver talked.

Rodney kicked back, managing to get Saldus in the leg, but without shoes he couldn't really do much damage. But he did get the guard to let go of him—for about ten seconds.

"As you can see, he is also feisty—which is more fun if you're looking for a slave to break." Saldus had stepped forward, securing Rodney's feet to hooks in the floor while Hadrious pushed two fingers in as deep as they would go.

Rodney howled, feeling his body responding, his cock hardening once again, the ring painfully tight as blood flowed into his dick.

Two of the buyers muttered in approval, while the third narrowed his eyes. Hadrious began to move his fingers, fucking Rodney with them and tagging his prostate while he continued to talk. "Now, he won't be coming with that little ring on—wouldn't want to spoil the surprise later—but I assure you, he does come on command."

He continued to moan and squirm as Hadrious played with him and talked, selling him to the buyers as he responded to everything he did. The buyers looked interested—very interested.

Finally, the fingers were removed, leaving Rodney panting and so hard it was physically painful. The two buyers in robes left, talking to each other excitedly. The third waited for them to leave before speaking. "How much will you be asking for him?"

"What do you think he's worth?"

"That is what I am asking you."

"I have several buyers interested. One has agreed to two hundred rue."

The man pulled a pouch off his belt, glancing into it almost negligently. "I have five hundred here. I'll give it to you to take him now."

"Just like that?" Hadrious asked, raising an eyebrow. Rodney's brain finally kicked in and he remembered the conversation from before. Teyla's owner was coming back to buy him. He couldn't be sold now.

Rodney moaned and shook his head, his eyes wide.

"Just like that. I am offering you more than twice what the previous man proposed. Do you accept?" He tossed the bag at Hadrious' feet.

"Why do you want him so badly?"

"My...master...would be pleased by him. I can find others, but why search when he will do?"

Hadrious looked at the other man for a long moment before nodding, picking up the bag at his feet. "Consider him yours. Do you wish him plugged before you leave?"

"That will not be necessary. Have him brought to the edge of the clearing—I have men waiting there. Find a pair of shoes for him, and put a robe on him. We'll be going through the Ring of the Ancestors, and I have no desire to have my new purchase damaged in transit."

"Very well," Hadrious said with a nod even as Rodney began to panic. "I'll make sure you get the keys to the locks as well."

Then man nodded. "I leave within the hour. I expect him to be there when I do." Without a backwards glance, he strode out of the tent.

Rodney was breathing heavily, panting around the gag as he tugged on the restraints holding him in place. No! Nonono! He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. You had a deal with Milkia! I was there! I remember!

Hadrious looked at him, smirking again. "You sold for much higher than I had hoped. Today has been most profitable. Saldus, you heard the requirements. See to it he's delivered as required."

Rodney howled, nearly sobbing in desperation. If he was sent off-world, no one would find him.

Laughing, Hadrious left the tent, leaving Saldus and Lilias, who had been in the background, to prepare him. He was brought down and bound tightly, hands behind his back, ankles hobbled together. Shoes and a gauzy robe, open at the front, were put on him, and he was half-marched, half-carried out, to the edge of the market where a large group of men were waiting.

The buyer wasn't in sight, but someone else stepped forward. "This is him?"

"It is. And we have dressed him as requested. He is all yours. I will warn you, however, that every few hours he goes a little pale. Forcing him to eat seems to solve the problem. Otherwise he is healthy and up to whatever tasks you wish him to perform."

"Good," the man said with a nod, taking the ring of keys from Saldus. "Has he talked to anyone since you've had him?"

Saldus nodded. "One other buyer took off his gag to have a chat with him. He and his slave were here briefly. He made an offer, but unlike your buyer, he did not have the cash on hand as requested."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Was that the only time?"

"Yes. Other than that he has been gagged since we caught him."

"Do you know what they spoke about?"

Saldus raised an eyebrow. "No, and I don't care. It's my job to make sure the merchandise in good condition for the sale, not to monitor what the buyers talk about as they look it over."

"I should ask for part of our money back. I didn't think slaves were permitted to speak."

"That was never promised, and what you do with him now is up to you. I have my own duties to attend to, so I'll be leaving him now. Enjoy, and it was a pleasure doing business with you."

Saldus handed over Rodney's leash to the other man before he turned on his heel and left the clearing, leaving Rodney standing there, barely clothed and trembling.

The new guard looked him over. With narrowed eyes, he took in everything, from his still painfully erect dick, to his wide and frightened expression. "Hmph. Mitch, come take charge of him until Lanis returns. We'll get moving shortly after that. If he gives you any trouble, knock him out and toss him with the rest of the goods we bought."

Rodney moaned, trying to shuffle back away from the men, but the chains between his ankles didn't give him much room to move—probably the point. It wasn't smart to give your slave any room to run away.

A second man—presumably Mitch—grabbed him. In the next moment, a fist connected hard with the back of his head. Darkness slipped in quickly, and for the first time since they were captured, he found some peace.

***

When the cramped transport carriage finally stopped, hours after they had left the market, John just wanted out, to stretch his muscles. The cuts and bruises from his struggles earlier had all started to ache, and his jaw was about to lock up from the gag.

God, he hoped they took that out soon.

Along with the rest of the new slaves, he was led out, noting that it was night. They were in a clearing, so this must just be a way station of some kind, and not the final destination. Fortunately, John didn’t have to wonder long what came next—the man who had bought him came striding over.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Mmmph."

"You cost me a fortune and this is how you repay me?" The man was getting madder the longer he looked John over.

John shrugged as best he could in the restraints, wincing as one of his bruises twanged. He hadn't asked them to buy him, hadn't asked to be a slave. What did he care how much this fucker had paid?

The man turned red before striding away, gesturing for John to be brought along.

He was shoved forward, stumbling slightly in the dark. He tried to work his jaw a little as he was led to a small tent, but it didn't help. He was tired, hungry, and now that the sun had set, it was damn cold standing around naked.

The guard shoved him to the ground and he ended up sprawled on a blanket, unable to catch himself with his hands bound behind his back. "Hold him," the man said as he approached carrying a needle. "This is for the trouble you caused me."

John felt his eyes widen. He didn't know what was coming, but those words never boded well. Instead of trying to struggle—which he knew wouldn't get him anywhere—he went still, making his eyes wide, shaking his head from side to side.

"You should have thought of that before you injured yourself," he said, kneeling at John's side. He needle went in a moment later, the drug injected into his bloodstream. "You should feel the effects in a few minutes. Maybe you'll think twice the next time you decide to do something like this."

John tried to slow his breathing. How bad could it be? They didn't want to actually hurt him so—

And that was when it hit him. Waves and waves of pain radiating through every extremity. He screamed, the gag muffling the sound, but he didn’t care, couldn’t stop. His whole body arched with it, ached with it.

He lost all sense of time, but when he came back to himself, he was curled in a ball as much as the restraints would allow on the floor of the same tent. His face felt wet, and the gag tasted salty, his throat scratchy. He held himself perfectly still—the worst of the pain seemed to be over, but any movement just made it ache all over again.

The buyer appeared a moment later, hovering over him. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us again. You went through that faster than most. It's only been an hour. And just think, that was the lowest dose."

John whimpered and tried to curl away, which only made it hurt again, tearing another moan out of him.

"Now we're going to take care of the damage you did to yourself and make sure you don't do it again," he said, gesturing for another man to move into the tent. "Silas will take care of you. Fight him and you get another dose of the drug. Do you understand?"

John whimpered again, which turned into an all out moan, his body spasming with pain as he was hauled to his feet. He swayed, eyes tightly closed, trying to push it back, trying to regain control of himself.

He was placed in a chair, the restraints removed from his hands and legs, and the gag finally taken from his mouth. There were two guards standing nearby, but right now he couldn’t have swatted a fly.

Working his jaw, John tried to swallow, but his mouth wouldn't produce anything. "Water?" It came out as a croak.

"You'll be fed and watered when we're ready," Silas said, removing one of the cuffs from John's wrists, shaking his head at the red and bruised skin.

Closing his eyes, John made a noise he was sure sounded both desperate and pathetic. But right now, he didn't care. He would beg, sob, and do whatever they wanted just for a few sips of water. "Please?"

"Had you behaved you would have had both food and water already. Now you will wait until we are finished with this," Silas said as he spread some kind of cream on John's wrists.

Whimpering, John did his best to hold still. He was so tired, his muscles aching with lingering traces of whatever he had been given, and the cream stinging into his skin. He was also sticky with dried sweat and dust, as well as the oil the slavers had put on him. In short, he was fucking miserable.

After the cream was applied, Silas wrapped the wrist in a soft cloth, taping off the end before moving to the second one and repeating the process. He moved onto John's ankles, working carefully, gently, making sure that every inch of the reddened flesh was treated.

It was almost hypnotic, and without realizing it, John started to sway. It wasn't until Silas sharply drew his attention that he snapped back into focus.

"Do not fall asleep."

"Tired. Thirsty."

"I don't care."

Sighing to himself, John probed at the corners of his mouth with his tongue in an attempt to stay alert. He couldn't risk them not giving him food or water—he was already dehydrated, and that was never good. He wasn't surprised to find the faint tang of blood where the gag had been pulled tight.

Silas sighed, seeing John flinch at the pain. "Damn, slavers. We paid enough for you and they can't even put a gag in without causing harm. Did they injure you anywhere else?"

"Took me prisoner. Sold me into slavery. Raped me. That count? If not, then only chains and cuffs. Damn drug for hurting myself—half of it was the cuffs. Cock ring hurts like hell, hope it doesn't damage anything." He was too tired to care of that would get him in trouble again.

Silas' eyes narrowed. "If it damages anything we'll just cut it off."

"Defeats the purpose of buying me as a fuck toy, doesn't it?" John sighed, slumping into the seat as much as he was allowed.

"No real use for your cock. As long as you still have an asshole you'll work just fine."

He flinched at that. "Look, you asked if they had injured anything else. I've worn cock rings before, so I know this one is too tight. It will do damage if you leave it on too long."

Silas huffed, but he focused on John's cock, humming to himself. A pair of shears came out next.

John stiffened. Oh fuck... he prayed to God that was for the ring and not his dick. If they tried to cut that off, he was going to go berserk, and they would have to kill him.

The tip was shoved under the metal of the ring and a moment later a loud crack could be heard throughout the tent. Silas bent back the two halves, giving John relief for the first time in hours. Cream and a cloth bandage were applied next.

"Oh god..." He moaned, his body first screaming with the pain, then making him feel almost high as the endorphins kicked in at the pleasure of being free.

"You will wear a cock ring at all times, so don't get used to the feeling," Silas said, already digging through his supplies, tugging out one that buckled on. He attached it a few moments later, but no where near as tight as the other one had been.

John swallowed, but nodded. One thing at a time. At least this one wasn't going to injure him. In fact it was about the same level of restriction as the one he used on Ro— He cut off the thought. This wasn't the time or place to worry about that. He would do that when he was alone.

A woman entered a moment later with a covered bowl and a glass of water, which she set on the floor. Silas pointed to the items absently. "If you intend to eat you have ten minutes."

Moving as fast as his battered body would let him, John ignored the food and went for the water. He wasn't stupid. He knew he needed to drink slowly after going without for so long, and the day he had had, or he would get sick. But he was just so thirsty.

Silas more or less ignored him, letting him eat and drink in peace for ten minutes. John was just finishing the bowl of oatmeal—or whatever was close—when the woman returned, picking up the bowl and glass and leaving without a backward glance.

Now that that was taken care of, John wondered if he would be allowed to relieve himself before they did whatever they planned to do with him for the night. He asked quietly, wondering if Silas would even bother to answer.

He looked John over carefully before gesturing to the corner of the room where a small chamber pot of sorts was sitting. "You can use that."

Feeling his ears turn hot, he nodded stiffly. After being bound so tightly all day, pissing actually hurt a little, but the greater relief of emptying his bladder was worth it. Now if he could just convince them to let him get clean... "Am I allowed to sponge myself off or something?"

"Why?"

"I'm sticky, dirty, and I smell like the slave market."

"You're a slave, that's a given," Silas said, dismissively, reading something. "If there's water and a cloth over there, fine. If not, it will wait until tomorrow."

John looked in the corner, spotting a small pot half-filled with water, and a rag. It would do. He carefully wiped himself as clean as he could get without soap, saving about half of what was there for his hair. That he dumped over his head, running the cloth over it to try and get out some of the grit, then using his fingers to shuck off the extra moisture.

"Are you done?" John could hear the annoyance beginning to show in Silas' voice.

He dropped the cloth and nodded slowly. "Better, thanks. So now what?"

"You are to be prepared for the rest of the journey. Sit." Silas pointed to the chair John had been in before.

He hesitated for a moment, flicking his gaze at the guards. There was no way he was getting past them, not in his current shape, and not without a plan. So... he sat.

Silas checked all the bandages, grunting in amazement when he found them dry. He then pulled out two large leather mittens with buckles that locked.

"Nononono. I won't try anything else, I swear..." He eyed them with active distaste.

"I don't care what you want. You will let me put these on you or we will do it the hard way. Understand?"

Swallowing hard, John finally nodded. He had no illusions about these men. If John so much as twitched a finger, they would drug him again, and that wasn't an experience he wanted to court again so soon.

One hand was placed inside the leather mitt and locked on, followed by the other—he would have absolutely no use of his hands. They were locked together in front of him before Silas turned his attention to his ankles.

The cuffs for his legs were wide and padded, locking securely in place before being secured together with a very short hobble chain between.

A collar was added last—four inches wide and padded, the ends finished well. It kept his neck straight and didn't allow much room for him to move. It was locked into place a moment later, a leash added to the front ring.

He thought about asking if they planned to gag him again too, but thought the sarcasm would probably be lost, and he would end up with foul fabric in his mouth again. So he stayed silent as he was pulled up and forced to try and keep up as he was led back to the first tent.

Instead of being put with the other slaves he was in the tent with the other guards, each of them eyeing him with a raised eyebrow and smirk as he entered.

John just prayed his status as an expensive object would save him from being used by the oafs.

The night passed quietly, and he even managed to sleep a little, dreaming of Rodney and lazy mornings together full of sex and passion and deep kisses. When he woke up, it was almost enough to make him cry.

He was given another small portion of food and water, and this time, instead of being shoved in the slave cart, he was kept with the guards, in a separate vehicle. They traveled for hours, the hot sun baking down, but John just closed his eyes and worked on resting and saving his strength for when an opportunity to escape popped up.

Eventually, a large city came into sight, and the caravan headed towards the center, the rest of the new slaves being taken somewhere else, along with the bulk of the entourage, until only John, Silas, the original buyer, and a few guards were left.

They came to what looked like a palace, and brought John deep into the interior. When he finally realized where they were going, he stopped cold, eyes going wide. The room was filled with baths, and what were presumably slaves being bathed, perfumed, prepared… and the clothes…

They were translucent.

He had known he'd been sold as a sex sleeve, but seeing it… God.

He was roughly pushed forward, into the room despite his protests. Silas spoke with the buyer—John wished he had caught his name—before they both turned to eye him carefully. Finally Buyer Guy spoke up. “I don’t believe you will submit without a fight, so I am going to give you your first taste of pria. Once you have had it, you will do anything to get more.”

The guards grabbed John, holding him still when he tried to struggle. His jaw was pried open, and a small magenta fruit was pushed inside. They held his mouth and nose until he swallowed, then released them, all of them standing back to watch with varying degrees of smugness.

He started to say something snarky, then… Oh… Oh my…

While one part of his brain continued to shriek, the rest was… content and happy. Even the feel of the air blowing gently though the room was arousing, pleasing. Hands on his body tugged him forward, and he went, willingly, wanting more.

Instead of protesting when he was washed and perfumed, John arched into each touch, purring at the sensations.

A gold chain was fastened around his waist, and the leather cock ring was replaced with a slim gold one. Another gold chain was run from his nipples to the belt, and from the belt to the ring. The bandages were all removed, and gold cuffs were put in their place, with slithering bands that branched off, snaking down his feet and hands to curl around his middle fingers and toes. Intricate gold armbands were added to his biceps, and a slim gold collar was added to the mix. A plug, adorned with several sparkling jewels was pushed into his ass, making him mewl with pleasure.

Over all that, sheer harem pants that hid nothing and only served to highlight the jewelry were put on him, with a matching sleeveless vest—all in a pale green. His lips were painted a bright red, and by the time they were done and leading him back to Silas and the buyer, John was so hard he was panting, trying to rub up against anything that presented itself as handy.

"Yes…perfect," the buyer said with a smile. "And he begs for more with just one dose of pria."

John tried to slink around one of the attendants, wanting his deft hands to touch again. He wanted to come.

The buyer rolled his eyes, spotting John as he tried to move. "Make sure his hands are bound behind him for now. He comes only when Ashira wants him to."

Whimpering, John attempted to rub against the guard who pulled his hands back, the feeling of rough material sliding against the silky clothes he was wearing making him mewl again. "Please, touch me, please..."

Silas laughed. "This one is perfect, Jacquil. Just perfect."

John changed tactics when the guard moved away, managing to sidle up to Silas and Jacquil—now he knew his name. "You've been watching me. You want to touch me now, yes?" Part of his brain was screaming at him for such shameless, wanton behavior, but the roar of need and pleasure washing through him drowned it out. He knew how to be seductive, use his body, and he did now, trying to tempt someone, anyone, into touching him again.

"If I touched you without permission, I would be killed," Jacquil said. "Come. You have to meet your new master."

Whimpering again, John followed, almost eagerly. The way everything they had put on him rubbed his body was making him feel so good. In fact, if he moved just this way, he was fairly sure he could get enough to come...

Jacquil looked over his shoulder at John. "If you come without permission you will be punished. Do you remember the needle?"

John widened his eyes, shaking his head. Nonono, not that. He wanted to feel good. That wasn't good. "Let me come. Please. Touch me." He begged, shameless, trying to get close enough to rub up against Silas, who was nearer than Jacquil.

"Stop immediately." Jacquil's voice was stern. "I will not hesitate to punish you."

Whimpering, John stopped, but even the trembling felt good, sending little sparks of pleasure through him.

"The pria works well on him," Silas said with a knowing look at John.

"He will be begging Ashira to fuck him several times a day," Jacquil said with a nod. "He will beg for his touch. We could not have picked better."

At the word fuck, John whimpered, clenching around the plug. "Rodney? Can he fuck me? I want Rodney..."

"Rodney? Who is he?"

"Lover. Partner." John went a little dreamy. "Love him. Want to touch him. Want him to touch me. Feels so good..."

"You have a master now."

He nodded. "Rodney. Mine, but I'm his too..."

"You belong to Ashira now."

John blinked, trying to bring his brain back online. No, that wasn't right. Something wasn't...

"Ashira. Say it."

He shook his head, trying to push past the tingling all his nerves were doing. "No, need... Where is Rodney? What—"

"Ashira is your master. Say it."

He started to shake his head, when another small fruit was pushed into his mouth. He swallowed before he could stop himself, and, after a few heartbeats, the need and pleasure exploded back through him, making him moan loudly, trembling with need. "Oh...please..."

Jacquil smiled. "Ashira is your master. I want you to say it."

The thoughts from before skittered away. "Ash...Ashira is my master. Please... please, let me come. Please, touch me." He was almost sobbing with the need for contact.

"You can ask your new master. Perhaps he will help you." They led him forward, tugging on his leash to keep him moving. They entered a lavish room a few moments later, a large man lounging on a raised platform, several men and woman scattered around him.

John was brought right up to the dais, made to kneel. The touch of hands on his shoulders made him shudder, a small, needy noise breaking free as he tried to arch up into it.

"What is this, Jacquil?"

"A new slave for you, Master. We found him at the sale. He was given his first taste of pria, and, as you can see, he takes well to it. We knew you were searching for a new slave, and this one, with his exotic looks, we hope will please you greatly."

"He is pretty. Is he trained?"

Jacquil glanced over at John. "No master, and that is his only failing. He was freshly caught the day of the sale, and still fights his new life. The pria clouds that, and I believe he will do as he is told while under its influence, but outside of that, he has a strong will."

Ashira nodded. "Does he beg for it now?"

Jacquil's lips curved upwards. "He has tried to rub against everything and everyone we passed coming here master. He begs to be touched, to be allowed to come. He was warned that he would be punished if he did so without your permission."

"Mmmm," he said, gazing down at John's upturned face. "Who is your master, slave?"

John was trembling, the need to be touched almost overwhelming. "Y...you. Please... please let me come. Please..."

"Can you pleasure me? Do you know how?"

He nodded eagerly. "Yes, please..."

"Good. I have no intention of breaking in another slave. Jacquil and Silas that is your job. Make sure he knows his place. Do whatever you need to make him compliant and eager." Ashira paused, smiling down at John. "If you pleasure me well enough, you will be allowed to come. Let me see what you can do."

Crawling up the stairs, John nuzzled his way into the man's groin, the taste and smell of cock making him tremble again. His whole body felt like it was on fire, the need to come almost overwhelming. Rodney liked it when he used his mouth, so that's what he did, wanting his lover to scream for him. He liked the way Rodney sounded when he let go.

John used every technique he knew until he heard his master moan loudly, pouring down his throat a moment later.

John lapped it up eagerly, his own erection straining against the silky fabric and gold embellishments. He put his head on the thigh in front of him, panting hard. He needed to come, and only the vague thought that if he didn't wait they would hurt him held him back.

"I thought you said he was untrained," Ashira said, speaking to someone behind him.

"We were led to believe he was. We know he had a lover, named Rodney, before he was captured. Perhaps he learned how to please there."

Ashira nodded. "Make him forget the other one. He will not be leaving my service." He paused, touching John's face. "It is your turn, my pet. I want to hear you scream my name."

"Rodney?" John leaned into the touch, eyes glazed. "Touch me? Please? Need you..."

"Who?" The hand stilled, voice growing cold.

John blinked. "A..Ashira. Please... Oh god..." He felt the tear leak out as he nuzzled the hand, trying to get it to move again.

It took nearly a minute before the hand stroked his face again. "Stand."

John obeyed, getting shakily to his feet. Every movement made the chains and fabric whisper around him, and he moaned, whimpered, desperate to have hands on his body again.

Ashira's hands moved quickly, removing the gold band from John's cock after pushing the cloth to the side. Even the barest of touches set him on edge. Ashira stroked him firmly before turning him, settling John's back against his chest, his free hand fingering John's nipples.

John screamed, arching. Only the hand tightening around the base of his dick prevented him from coming, making him sob with frustration.

"Did I give you permission?"

Turning his head, John buried his face in the skin surrounding him. "Nipples... Can come... Just those... Please..."

"Good to know, my pet. Who is your master?"

"A..Ashira. Ashira is my master." He sobbed it out as first one, then the other nipple was toyed with, teased.

"Good. Very good." A hand returned to his cock, stroking him roughly. Lips brushed against his ear. "Come."

With another scream, John came, feeling like his entire body was shooting out through his dick. Hands continued to stroke him through it, until he was boneless, limp and only semi-conscious.

"You have done well, Jacquil. See that he is trained." Ashira said as he handed John off to the guards.

Still panting, John couldn't move, couldn't carry his own weight. "Mmmm?"

The guards took hold of his arms, dragging him away as Jacquil pledged his oath to see John trained.

***

While this entire situation was one to be avoided, Teyla had to admit that she had not faired as badly as others. Milkia's house was not far from the market square and it was quite comfortable, given the circumstances.

She was allowed to bathe as soon as they were brought in and given simple clothes to wear. While she would always have the ankle and wrists cuffs and the collar on, they were not locked together, allowing her freedom of movement. They were more a symbol of her status than for restraint—but they could be if required.

The girls kept in the house were warm and welcoming and for a brief moment, Teyla was confused. How could slaves such as these be so eager to stay or welcome others? Some, she noticed, did not bear the mark of a slave, free of the gold that adorned her own body.

One such girl—a woman in her own right—seemed to be the leader. She welcomed Teyla, enveloping her in a huge hug as soon as she was introduced. "Oh, it will be so nice to have someone we can trust to keep the rowdies at bay again. Ever since Shella left, going downstairs during business hours is just horrid!"

"Shella left? Did something happen?"

The girl smiled, encompassing both Teyla and the other new girls who had been brought in with her. "She earned her right to leave. Milkia keeps records of everything we earn individually, and when you've made enough to cover what he paid for you as well as a certain amount of profit, if you're a slave, he'll free you. Most of us choose to stay, but some, like Shella, decide to move on. She was our guard, and got a commission from a band of traders who needed muscle. We miss her, but she has promised to stop in to say hello whenever she passes this way."

"That is…most unusual," Teyla said, still trying to wrap her mind around everything.

The girl laughed. "Yes, we are all very lucky that we were singled out by Milkia. Now, you three," she pointed at the new 'upstairs' girls, "You go with Anney, Missa, and Rosen. They'll show you around and answer any questions. If you want to talk later, they'll be your mentors, or you can come to me—my room is the last on the left in our hall. My name is Kellie by they way. And you," she turned to Teyla, "I'll show you around down here, and let you know what to expect. Most of the men are decent, but there are a few that cause problems and need to be watched out for."

"I appreciate your assistance, Kellie. I am Teyla."

"It is a pleasure." She gave a little curtsy. "Actually, this is as much for my benefit as yours. I hope that's okay. I want to get to know you, since we'll be relying on you in the evenings. I was good friends with Shella, and I hope you and I can be friends too."

While Teyla had no intention of staying here any longer than necessary, she was going to do the best she could under the current circumstances. "I will do my best to fulfill my responsibilities."

"Oh good!" She giggled, and proceeded to take Teyla on a whirlwind tour of the brothel. She was full of energy and life, almost never standing still and lighting up any rooms she walked in to. Eventually, they came to a small office. Popping in, Teyla was surprised to find Milkia there—he had disappeared as soon as they arrived. "Mil! You didn't come say hello when you got back. And you brought us Teyla! She is wonderful. Wherever did you find her?" She had taken Teyla's hand and pulled her in as well.

"At the market, where else?" he grumbled, focused on the coins and papers littering his desk.

Kellie giggled, wiggling her way onto Milkia's lap. "Come on Mil, stop being grumpy. You found a new guard, and the new girls for upstairs seem nice. I've sent them off to be shown around, and I'll let you know if any of them seem really unsuited to life here. So what's bothering you?"

"Hadrious is being an ass," he grumbled, giving Kellie's arm a brief squeeze before, gently removing her from his lap. "He's insisting on cash."

"What? Why? He's never wanted cash before." She stood, her face creasing into the first frown Teyla had seen. "I really dislike that man. I wish you didn't have to deal with him."

"He's the best of the slavers and does have good product," he said with a shrug. He glanced up at Teyla. "You had better appreciate what I'm trying to do for you."

Teyla nodded. "I believe I have gotten quite lucky. If you can also purchase my friend, he will be most useful as well. He is a brilliant scientist and engineer. There are many things he could build, fix, or improve for you."

"If I can pay the price Hadrious wants. He would only take cash and it is already up to two hundred rue. I want to make sure I bring more in case he changes his mind before the evening sale."

She inclined her head. "Thank you."

"I'm regretting this already."

"I am sorry. I did not wish to cause you trouble. I will do my best to protect your girls, and Rodney, if you purchase him, will be most useful as well. As I said, he is brilliant, and maintains the city in which we live—used to live."

Milkia looked at her carefully. "Just where are you from girl? All the slaves are supposed to be drawn from special pools of slaves from various worlds."

"We were not. My team had come through the ring because we were told there were people here who had things to trade for the types of goods and services we can offer. Hadrious and his men ambushed us and took us prisoner just this morning."

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "No. That is impossible. Hadrious, while he is a dirty slaver, would not break the laws so blatantly." His eyes narrowed at Teyla. "I do not appreciate liars."

"It is up to you if you do not wish to believe me. I have no reason to lie however. We were seeking to trade for foodstuffs and other basic goods for our people, in exchange for things such as medicines and knowledge. Rodney often offers his skills and that of his staff at fixing and improving things as part of our agreements."

"Enough with the tales. I do not wish to hear them. You are my slave that I purchased within my rights and the laws of the land. You will accompany me back to the market when I return, but you will not speak. You are there to observe and only to point out this…Rodney once again. Do you understand?"

She sighed. "I do. As I said, while this is not a life I have chosen for myself, you have been kind thus far, and I do not wish to cause you trouble." Yet, she added to herself. As kind as he was, she would take the first opportunity to leave.

He nodded once before shooing them away. "I require dinner before I leave. See to it, Kellie."

The girl pressed a kiss onto his cheek. "I will, Mil. Come, Teyla, I'll show you the kitchens next."

Teyla nodded, following the woman through a series of room until they arrived at the kitchens where several women were cooking. The smells were marvelous, making her stomach rumble.

"When did you last eat, Teyla?" Kellie put together several plates, handing one to a young kitchen boy with orders to bring it to Mil. Then she sat at a large wooden table, worn smooth with use, setting out a plate for her and for Teyla. "You must be hungry."

"This morning before…" she paused, considering her words. "This morning," she repeats.

Kellie looked at her carefully. "I wouldn't say it too much in front of Mil, but... Hadrious is a horrible man, and I wouldn't put it past him. Mil doesn't want to believe it, because that would mean he was trading in free people. He doesn't much like the slave system, which is why he offers us a way to work ourselves free. But if what you say is true... then Hadrious has crossed a very serious line."

Teyla nodded, holding her tongue for the time being.

Kellie patted her arm. "You'll like it here I hope. And... If you really are telling the truth, then, if your people come looking for you, Mil will probably let them buy you back."

"We shall see. I just hope we can purchase Rodney when we return to the market. He is not…built for this kind of life."

"Mil will do what he can." She smiled again. They ate silently for several minutes before Kellie gathered up their empty plates. "Now, let me show you to your room, and let you get settled before you head back to the market this evening."

"Very well," Teyla said, following the woman upstairs. Her room was small but clean and was her own.

There were several garments in the small closet and two pairs of sandals. She grabbed one to wear back to the market, surprised they fit when she put them on. When she raised an eyebrow at Kellie, the woman blushed lightly.

"I sized you up when you first came in, and had one of the girls dig up some clothes for you. We have a community closet we use to outfit all the new girls."

"Thank you. It is a special ability to be able to choose the correct sizes of garments and footwear."

"It's one of my many talents." She gave Teyla an impish grin. "Now, you get settled. I'll be back for you in a bit!"

Shaking her head, Teyla chuckled lightly as she was left alone for the first time in hours. She used the time to get a lay of the land, watching the people in the streets below her window as they moved through the village. She could pick out the slaves easily, their cuffs and markings—and often lack of clothing—were easy to spot.

After a while, there was a knock on the door and one of the girls was letting her know that Mil was waiting for her. It was time to return to the market and bring Rodney home. At least she'd be able to watch over him until Atlantis sent a rescue team.

Mil—as everyone on his staff appeared to refer to him—was indeed waiting, along with the guard from earlier. "Let's go, girl. I do have other things I need to get to before the day is out."

"I am sorry for keeping you waiting. I did not know the time you wished to return. It won't happen again."

Nodding, he set a brisk pace back to the market, her leash wrapped around his wrist. It didn't take them long to find Hadrious' tent again.

During the walk, Teyla kept her eyes moving, looking for her teammates, hoping to find others. She did not know how long it would take for Atlantis to send another team, but she could always hope.

"Saldus! Where is Hadrious? I've brought the cash the wretch is demanding. I want my slave so I can get out of this foul market."

"And which one might that be?" Saldus asked, a smirk on his face. "We have many slaves. You need to be more specific."

"Don't be stupid, Saldus. You know which slave I was here for earlier. Where is he?"

"You may wish to check with Hadrious, but I do not believe he is with us any longer."

Milkia narrowed his eyes. "I had an agreement with Hadrious. Where is he now?"

"Try the office," Saldus said with a shrug. "You know how it is. First come, first served."

Teyla knew her eyes were wide, but she held her tongue. Rodney was gone?

With a tug, Milkia led her to a smaller tent, barging in. "Hadrious. Where is my slave? I brought the cash you wanted, and I wish to conclude the transaction."

Hadrious' expression changed from surprise to arrogance as soon as he recognized Milkia. "I’m sorry, but that slave is no longer available. Perhaps I can interest you in another?"

"We had an agreement."

"You did not have the money."

"You knew I was returning with it." Milkia looked furious. "Fine. Which world did you harvest him from? Where there is one that will suit my needs, I have found there are usually others."

Hadrious leaned back in his chair. "Trade secret."

Milkia narrowed his eyes again. "Then tell me who you sold him to."

"You know better than to ask, Milkia. I was paid handsomely for an otherwise useless slave. Why should I argue if the money is good?"

"Because I had claimed him, that's why. You know the rules, and you know how this is supposed to work."

"You did not have the money and anther buyer did. I am permitted to sell my wares to whoever I wish." Hadrious stood, a smirk on his face. "And you should have seen him in the end. For as unattractive as he was, he was very responsive. He'd been trained well. At the end he was begging the buyer to fuck him. You should have seen him."

Milkia's expression went cold. "You disgust me, Hadrious, and don't think this is the last you will hear of it. You might have good wares, but to sell a slave out from under me without even the option of a counter-offer is against the rules and you know it."

"Would you have given me six hundred rue? You are cheap with your money."

"That is my business, and you will never know now, will you? You could have made a small fortune today, and instead you chose to flaunt yourself. It was a bad decision."

Hadrious laughed. "Oh I did make a small fortune today, Milkia. Go find yourself another slave. I'll give you a discount off him."

"Oh I don't think so. I am done doing business with you." Milkia turned on his heel, tugging Teyla out of the tent along with him.

Teyla followed numbly, wringing her hands together as Milkia strode from the slave market. Rodney was gone. Sold. They were too late. And his words…no one should have to be treated as Rodney had been.

"I am sorry, girl. But there is nothing more I can do—and nothing more you can do either."

She nodded, knowing his words to be the truth. Rodney was gone and she was in no position to follow.

When they arrived at the brothel, he took off the leash. "Go get some rest, and dinner if you haven't eaten yet. Your duties start tomorrow."

"I have eaten," she said quietly. "I think I shall rest. It has been…a very long day."

He gave her a curt nod and then disappeared, probably back to his office.

Climbing the stairs up to her room, she settled on the small bed after closing the door behind her. A knock sounded a moment before it opened again, one of the guards stepping inside.

"Mil's orders. All new ones are to be chained at night. Can't take the chance you'll run at the first opportunity."

"I am not planning—"

He shook his head, cutting her off. "It's only until Mil is sure of you. For now, though, you don't have a choice." He pulled out a chain from under the bed, already attached to the floor, locking it onto one of her ankle cuffs with a study padlock.

Teyla sighed. "Is there anything else you require of me?"

"Not tonight." He gave her another nod before slipping out, closing the door once more.

Settling back on the bed, she crossed her arms over her chest, staring at the ceiling above her head. It was a long time before sleep finally came and took her away from the living nightmare. Just before sleep over took her, she offered up an apology to Rodney for not coming in time, for not saving him.

***

Ronon kept pace easily, despite the attempts of his new ‘masters’ to make him stumble and fall. It gave him fierce satisfaction when the expression of the one who had been eyeing him got darker and darker. When they finally arrived at what he assumed was their destination, Ronon wasn’t even winded—unlike some of the pack animals that apparently didn’t like the hard pace.

They were directed to bunks—a wood pallet with a light blanket—to which they were chained for the night.

The guards weren't taking any chances with them.

Ronon carefully tested each chain, each post, determining that the one holding his left arm was the weakest point. Perfect. Closing his eyes, in a technique he had perfected as a Runner, Ronon forced his body to rest, even as he very carefully began to work at the chain, keeping the movement small enough that there was no betraying sound. It would take several days at this pace, but he would be free in time.

He didn't sleep that night, instead he simply rested, prepared to move at the barest instant of time when the guards dropped their attention.

When he could feel the dawn coming, the guards arrived again, with bowls of a disgusting looking mash and water. The other slaves wolfed it down, but Ronon watched them warily, looking for signs of poison before he tried his own. The Lanteans cuisine was starting to make him soft, he supposed.

It was bland, but fulfilled his requirement for food. The guards took a slave away one at a time, apparently taking them to their work assignment for the day. When they finally got to him, he was ready.

Instead of the two guards for each slave, four showed up for him—including the one that had been watching him. Ronon stood, glaring, but refusing to say a word.

He could take the four easily, but they expected that right now.

He followed them out to a field, looking at the harness they pointed to. There were other slaves out already, struggling to pull the heavy things. He just crossed his arms and waited to see what they would do.

"Standing there staring is not an option. Put it on and start pulling. That's what we bought you for."

Ronon grunted, setting his feet a little more firmly.

One of the guards stepped forward. "That wasn't a suggestion."

Ronon put on his most intimidating expression, and was coldly satisfied when the guard took a hesitant step backwards.

Another guard though, pulled something from a hook on his belt, letting the long leather uncurl. "Let's try this again, slave. Put it on and work."

Ronon eyed the whip and tensed. He knew, with four of them—five if you counted the overseer who was still watching with narrowed eyes—that he couldn't escape right now. But he would make them work for it.

The man snapped his wrist, the whip grazing his forearm. Ronon flinched, stepping back a pace. He was better than Ronon expected.

He made a few quick calculations—despite what McKay claimed, he was a lot smarter than he let on, and he learned fast. He figured he could take five or six stripes like that without too much damage. And it would prove that he wasn't a pushover.

The whip flashed again, this time drawing blood as it struck his skin. "I suggest you get to work."

He narrowed his eyes, and on the third strike, caught the whip, jerking it out of the man's hands. He tossed it to the ground, content that he had made his point—for now. What he did, he did by choice. With a deceptively lazy swagger he had learned from Sheppard, Ronon picked up the heavy yoke with one hand, meandering towards the field.

What he wasn't expecting was the sharp sting on his back, the rush of air as his shirt was split in two or the dampness of blood.

Looking back, Ronon growled. "You want this done or not?"

"It speaks."

"Wasn't aware you wanted chatty."

"We didn't think you could."

Ronon dropped the yoke and crossed his arms again. "Only when it interests me."

"You were bought to work."

"You're the one who made me stop to talk."

"Get to work. This field needs to be ready for planting by the end of the day."

"You gonna whip me as soon as I turn around again?"

"If you don't start working you'll get more than just one more whip mark." The guard stepped forward, whip held at the ready.

Ronon glared, then picked up the yoke with one hand again.

"It goes over your shoulders, slave."

"Easier this way." He started to drag it again.

The whip snapped next to his head, but didn't touch him. "You do it the way we want."

"You want the field ready, or you want to argue about it?"

"We want it done our way. Slaves are not supposed to think. They're just supposed to work."

"Then you should stick to buying stupid slaves." Ronon moved again, dragging it, and doing it better than the men toiling away with the heavy equipment further out.

The whip snapped again, grazing skin. "That wasn't a suggestion. Straps over your shoulders."

Ronon dropped the thing yet again, stalking over to yank the whip out of the guard's hand and stuff it in his own belt before returning to what he was doing.

The next thing he heard was the cocking of a gun. "Shall we try this again?"

"Shooting me would defeat the purpose."

"Not really. You'd serve as an example to the others," one of the guards said, his eyes flickering to the other slaves in the field, each of them looking at the stand-off.

Ronon and the other man continued to stare off. Grudgingly, Ronon gave in. If it had just been him, he would have forced them to kill him. However, he had a team to consider, and someone had to rescue them. Without dropping his eyes, he pulled the straps over his shoulders.

"Whip on the ground."

Pulling it out, Ronon flicked it a few times, getting a feel for it, assessing how much damage it was capable of, before tossing in into the dirt. He preferred his knives anyway.

"I want this field done my mid-afternoon."

"Then maybe you should stop yapping at me."

"We'll see how long you keep that attitude of yours. Get moving."

Shrugging under the weight, Ronon started to pull. That one went on his mental list of people who would die before he left this place.

He worked all morning and when he heard a bell ring headed in once again, following the lead of the other slaves. But before he took more than a few steps, one of the guards moved a few steps forward. "Get back to work."

Ronon just raised an eyebrow.

The guard's hand strayed to his gun. "That wasn't a suggestion. Get back to work."

"You gonna let me get a drink first?"

"No. Back to work."

Eyeing the guard, Ronon debated making a grab for his canteen. The arrival of three more, however, made him grunt and turn to walk back to the yoke he had dropped.

He was forced to work through lunch and when the dinner bell rang hours later, Ronon was more than ready to be finished. The guards, however, had better ideas. "You're not done. If you don't finish you don't eat."

He narrowed his eyes. "I am finished. Field's done."

The guard's hand rested on the butt of his gun. "I say when you're done and you're not. The longer you argue, the longer you stay out here."

He was going to be pissed if he missed dinner and got no food today. Even as a Runner he had eaten something every day. He took up his task again, speeding up slightly from the meandering pace he had set most of the day.

The guards worked him nearly an hour longer than the other slaves when the sun was finally dipping into the horizon. "Bring the yoke back to the shed. If dinner's still available you can eat. If not, you'll eat in the morning and remember to pick up the pace tomorrow."

Grunting, Ronon did as he was told. There was no food left on the table set out for the slaves, so he looked around, pinpointing the bullies with a quick assessment—even among slaves there were power struggles. He chose the one who looked the best fed, least whipped, and strode over, simply taking the bowl of food. It was probably not his first. When the slave started to protest, Ronon glared until the man subsided.

Another slave walked over—a larger, more muscled one—dropping into the seat across from Ronon. "You seem to have forgotten your manners."

"Nope. Just making sure I got my share."

"Try finishing your work on time."

"Try minding your own business."

The other man reached out, grabbing Ronon's arm on one of the whip welts. "You made it my business as soon as you walked in the door."

Ronon set down his bowl with his other hand. Before the other man could react, he pulled back and punched, sending him flying off the seat. Then he picked his bowl back up and continued eating.

Guards appeared a moment later, guns drawn. "Up."

Ronon shrugged, finishing the meal in one gulp and standing. "He started it."

"Doubtful." The head guard gestured with his gun for Ronon to turn around. "Hands behind your back."

With another shrug, Ronon turned, putting his hands back. He had several knives stashed close enough to get to in that position, should it become necessary.

His cuffs were locked together before he was shoved forward, heading out of the room. They moved him to another part of the complex, pushing him into a small closet-sized room. The guards moved quickly, attaching chains to his wrists that attached to the wall, a hobble between his feet and more chains leading to the wall.

"We'll see how you're doing after a day in here."

Ronon shifted, finding a semi-comfortable position. He had spent worse nights. "Okay."

The door clanged shut, locking from the outside, plunging him into darkness.

Leaning back against the wall, Ronon let all his muscles relax. He had learned to sleep anywhere, in almost any position, so if these scum were hoping to break him this way, they were going to be disappointed.

***

Rodney crossed the line between unconsciousness and wakefulness in seconds, everything flooding back to him in a rush as he groaned. Captured. Kidnapped. Sold. Slave. John.

He opened his eyes, but was greeted by complete darkness and he began to panic until his mind caught up, feeding the sensations of cloth against his face near his temples to his brain. Blindfold. He was blindfolded. And gagged. And bound. And alone.

Oh god.

Panic was appropriate.

"Well, well, well, I must admit, you were the last thing I expected my men to bring back from the slave market, Doctor McKay. And...embellished...as well"

No! Nononononono! Not that voice, not that man. It couldn't be. He moaned, trying to shift, to get away, but discovering he had nowhere to go.

There was a dry chuckle. "Don't bother. You are well and truly bound. I'm not taking any chances this time around. You proved yourself more clever and resourceful than I anticipated last time. I won't make the same mistake twice."

He shook his head, still fighting at the ropes binding him. No. This couldn't be happening. Not this man. No. It was impossible.

A hand ran up his chest—oh god, he was still naked—flicking a sore nipple, ring still in place. "I am told you were quite...responsive. You should thank me, Doctor McKay. Instead of a pleasure slave, I can offer you something more suited to your true talents."

Rodney moaned, body trembling from the contact, feeling himself reacting. He shook his head again trying to convince himself more than anything that this wasn't really happening.

"Well well. It seems my man was not wrong. Since I'm reasonably sure it isn't me, what could it be? The bonds perhaps?"

Rodney shook his head back and forth again, more emphatically this time, trying to will down his slowly hardening cock. Adrenaline. That's all it was.

Fingers continued to stroke him tease at the new nipple rings. "I don't recall this reaction the last time I had you tied up. So this is new. Who have you been playing with, Doctor McKay? Sheppard perhaps? Are you reacting because you imagine it is him touching you?"

He moaned and whimpered, embarrassed by his own reaction—especially to this man.

Another chuckle, and the fingers moved south. "It is Sheppard. How interesting. Was he at the slave market as well? I'll have to put my men out in force to find him. He would make quite a possession. I bet he was sold as a pleasure slave as well, wasn't he?"

Rodney let out a yelp when the hand closed around his cock, stroking him as he hardened further.

"I do believe I will enjoy keeping you naked. Your reactions are too... amusing. However, we can't have you simply taking care of things whenever you want, can we?" The fingers sped up, working him, jerking him off.

He let out another yelp followed by ever increasing moans and groans as the pleasure and arousal built, the cock ring getting painful.

"I was told the slavers promised that you come on command, Doctor McKay." The pressure of the ring suddenly disappeared. "Why don't you come for me?"

Rodney shook his head, not wanting to comply, but his body had other things in mind. The pleasure that had been pooling at the base of his spine released and he came, his body shaking and shuddering as he moaned loudly.

As he came down, he heard another chuckle. The blindfold was pulled off, revealing a familiar face. Kolya.

He tried to suck in a deep breath through his nose, but he couldn't, the orgasm leaving him spent and sated as he panted around the gag instead. He could feel his cheeks were flushed red in embarrassment.

Kolya chuckled again. "You must be getting hungry. I assume the slavers fed you, but knowing how they operate, it probably wasn't much." He gestured to someone out of Rodney's line of sight. A moment later, a platter of food appeared. Kolya pulled off Rodney's gag and held a piece of cheese to his lips.

His jaw was sore and horribly dry from the gag and he felt slightly lightheaded, but he still turned his head away from Kolya. He didn't want anything from this man, from his hand.

His face was turned back. "You will eat, Doctor McKay. You can either accept it, or I will force it down your throat."

He shook his head from side to side, refusing to open his mouth. There was no need for him to make it easy for him.

With a smirk, Kolya began to flick one of his nipples. As soon as he opened his mouth to moan, the food was pushed in, and a hand over his mouth prevented him from spitting it out.

Rodney tried to move his head, tried to get away from Kolya's hand, but the man put his other hand at the back of Rodney's head, holding him in place.

"You will eat." Further down, someone slipped a chastity cage over Rodney's soft cock.

He groaned, trying to squirm away from the hands holding him, but the bindings held him firmly in place.

"Perhaps, if you please me and do the work as you have been asked, I will take that off and allow you the pleasure of release. I will even let you call out Sheppard's name when you do."

The piece of cheese Kolya had shoved in his mouth was slowly melting on his tongue and without any other option in sight he swallowed it down, closing his eyes as he did.

"Very good, Doctor McKay." The hand over his mouth disappeared. A piece of fruit was pushed in next.

He chewed it and swallowed, the fruit giving him a little bit of moisture. "Untie me and I can feed myself."

"I don't think so." He was fed another piece of cheese. "I enjoy seeing you at my mercy like this. Tell me, what else has Sheppard trained you to do? Does he feed you like this? Is that why you are against it now, when I know you are hungry?"

"I’m a grown man," he whispered, the words hissed. "I know how to feed myself. I don't need your help."

"That hardly matters. You will take what I give you. After all, I did pay for you. I own you now, Doctor McKay. Your body, your mind."

"No one owns me."

"Oh? What about Sheppard?"

"No one owns me," he repeated, his eyes narrowing.

Kolya fingered John's mark. "This says otherwise. And that collar is too nice to have come from the slavers."

"That's none of your business."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong." Kolya stood, gesturing again, and the man who had bought him stepped forward. "Make sure he eats everything on the platter. Once that's done, get him cleaned up—he smells like the market. Leave him undressed. Bring him to his cell afterwards. Tomorrow, Doctor McKay, you will begin working for me."

"I won’t."

"Yes, you will. You won't have any choice." Without a backwards glance, Kolya strode out of the room.

Rodney eyed the other man carefully, wanting to panic.

The man's smile didn't reach his eyes as he force-fed Rodney the rest of the food. "You were a very lucky find. My status with the commander is cemented now."

"I'll make sure to change that as soon as I can," Rodney muttered, turning his head away from the other man again, making him work to give him each and every bite of food.

He didn't respond, merely forcing Rodney to eat until everything was gone. Several more guards appeared and he was let up from the table he had been strapped to, his hands and feet swiftly bound together.

"Come on! How do you expect me to walk like this?"

"Badly." He was tugged forward, one guard on either arm preventing him from falling on his face.

They dragged him, weaving through the complex. They ended up in a large bathroom set up for use by multiple people at one time. Great. Communal bathing.

He was forced to sit on a stool, strapped to it so he couldn't move. The guards stepped back, and a young woman appeared with a sponge.

With his mouth set in a thin line, he stopped fighting. Getting clean was a priority. He felt filthy. The dirt of the slave market mixed with the streaks of come on his chest.

She was impersonal, cleaning him quickly and efficiently, even washing his hair. By the time he was pulled to his feet and toweled off, he hated to admit he did feel a little better.

But he wasn't going to admit anything. Especially not to these people. He was released from the stool and dragged once again to another section of the base, getting dropped in the middle of the floor of a small empty room.

"You can't just leave me here like this."

The man who had bought him just smiled. "We will return for you tomorrow, when Commander Kolya is ready to see you."

"You have to untie me. You can't expect me to sleep like this."

His only answer was the clanging of the door, the lock clicking into place loudly.

"Oh come on! You've got to be kidding!"

There was no response.

Rodney glanced around the room, finding four grey walls, a ceiling and floor and nothing else. He'd been hoping he'd missed something, but that hadn't been the case. Rolling onto his side so he wasn't crushing his hands, Rodney tried to get comfortable, but found it nearly impossible.

With his hands bound behind his back, no position except sleeping on his stomach was comfortable, but then the fucking cock cage was uncomfortable. He couldn't sleep on his side because his arm would fall asleep, and lying on his back was out for obvious reasons.

Panic was hard work and exhaustion finally won out. He tumbled into a restless slumber, only to be awakened by a loud alarm shaking him awake.

He shot up, eyes wide, heart pounding as the alarm shut off, leaving the sound echoing in his skull.

After he finally managed to get his breathing under control, he tried to settle back down, sleep coming slowly until the ringing of the alarm woke him once again.

That pattern continued all night. As soon as he was drifting off to sleep, the alarm would wake him. By morning he was bleary-eyed and exhausted, shaking slightly from the lack of sleep.

The guards arrived to haul him out, not saying a word. He was taken back through the halls, and tied once more to a chair—this time in what looked like Kolya's office. The man himself was sitting behind the desk, a tray of food in front of him. "Ah, Doctor McKay. Good morning."

"What's good about it? I've been mistreated, restrained all night, and not allowed to sleep."

"Just making sure you understood your place here. In time, as you cooperate, you'll be treated better. You have to earn comfort, Doctor." He rose and came around the desk to lean against it right in front of Rodney.

"I won't help you."

"Yes, you will." He picked up a piece of some sort of cake, pushing it into Rodney's mouth before he could look away.

Rodney managed to spit it out. But that only rewarded him with a backhand across his face, knocking him back.

"We can do this the hard way. We both know I'm not one to make idle threats." Another piece of food was put in Rodney's mouth, and this time his air was cut off until he swallowed.

Rodney panted when Kolya finally let him go, drawing in a deep breath of air. "Bastard."

Kolya ran a finger down his face. "Now now, we don't know each other well enough for endearments yet."

Rodney managed to jerk his head away, his eyes flashing. "Don't touch me."

"That isn't an option open to you right now." Kolya picked up another piece of cake, slipping it into Rodney's mouth. "Eat. You'll feel better once you have a full meal."

"I don't want to feel better," he said once he swallowed it. "I don't want to be here."

"Yes, I am aware of that. But that is not something you can control right now, either. You can, however, earn yourself the right to have your hands unfastened and a few hours of sleep." Kolya continued to feed him as he spoke.

"Just let me go," he whined, his body and mind muddled from the lack of sleep from the night before.

"That isn't going to happen. You're going to use that mind of yours to help me. And the more cooperative you are, the more comfortable you will be."

"No," Rodney muttered, head shaking from side to side. "Not going to help."

Kolya touched him again, dragging a finger down his jaw, over John's mark, flicking a nipple. "A few equations won't hurt anything, go against your principles. You would be happier in your cell tonight with a bed, would you not? And no alarms?"

Rodney moaned at the sensation, shaking his head. What was happening to him? He felt…weird. Fuzzy. "No…no alarms."

"I know. No alarms. All you have to do to ensure that is look at a few equations, solve them. It's nothing hard, nothing you can't do. It isn't much to ask for a good night of rest, is it?"

"No…no, I can't." He shook his head, trying to clear it. God, he was so tired.

"Yes, you can." Hands were touching him, caressing him. "So easy. So little to ask. You'll solve the problems, and then curl up in a bed, with a blanket, all night, with no interruptions."

"I always solve problems. So tired…"

"Yes." He was pulled gently to his feet, and led slowly into a lab. When he was pushed into another chair, he realized there were several pages of equations in front of him, along with a pen. Hands swept down his shoulders, toyed with the nipple rings. Kolya's voice was hot in his ear. "Solve the problems, Doctor McKay."

He shook his head, knowing this was wrong, but his eyes scanned the pages, saw the problems, the errors. "Not…not right." He shook his head again, shuddering as a tremor moved through his body.

"So fix them. Pick up the pen, solve the problems. You're very good at solving problems, and it will earn you rest. You want to rest."

"Need to rest," Rodney said, nodding, suddenly realizing that his hands were free, his right hand clutching the pen in his hand. These equations were easy…child's play. He could do them in his sleep.

Kolya continued to caress his shoulders and arms urging him on.

His eyes slid shut as the pen finally dropped from his hand, his notations scrawled on the paper. Idiots. Couldn't even get the simple equations right.

"Very, very good, Doctor. I'll have our scientists look at these to make sure you didn't try to fool us. Once they have confirmed it, you'll be allowed to get some rest."

"So tired…god, so tired."

"I know, Doctor. Come, let's go back to my office. We can wait there for the results, and then you can go get some sleep. You've been at it for a while, perhaps some lunch is appropriate as well."

"Bathroom," he said, finally realizing what was bothering him. "Need to go."

Kolya smirked. "You can through the cage. There will be soap and water to clean up afterwards." He led Rodney to a small room. "I'll wait here for you, Doctor."

It took him a while to take care of business. He felt like he was moving through thicker-than-usual air, but it was the same feeling he got after being up for hours and hours on end, that otherworldliness of overtiredness.

Kolya was there when he opened the door again, smiling down at him.

"Ah, Doctor McKay. Come, I'll feed you a late lunch or early dinner, however you choose to take it. And then we'll get you settled to sleep. How does that sound?"

"I’m so tired. Can't I just sleep?"

Kolya put a hand in the small of his back, leading him forward. When they arrived back at Kolya's office, Rodney was strapped back down, and a piece of meat was held up to his mouth. "Eat. I know your condition requires it, and I want to make sure you will be okay while you sleep. A snack will be placed in your cell for you if you need it later."

The meat was warm with a slight hint of spice. He moaned in appreciation. "It's good."

"Yes, I thought you would like that." Kolya smiled as he fed Rodney another piece.

Rodney ate each piece as it was provided, his eyes sliding closed with every passing minute, the past days and hours catching up with him.

Hands were gentle on him as he was helped to stand once more. Led back to the cell from the night before, this time there was a soft bed, and a small tray filled with cheese and fruits. Kolya himself pushed Rodney down into it. "Sleep now, McKay. You've earned it. We'll talk again tomorrow."

He nodded as the blanket was pulled over his body, asleep even before the bolt slid shut, locking him into his small cell.

***

John woke slowly, his body feeling itchy, tense. He was pretty sure there was something he was supposed to remember…

Right. Slave. No. He was Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Military Commander of Atlantis. Pilot and the lover and partner of one Doctor Rodney McKay.

Rodney…

The rest of yesterday started to filter into his consciousness, slowly, the itchy feeling making it hard to focus. He shifted, trying to find a position that was somewhat comfortable. And then he remembered. No. Oh no.

Before he could process anything further, all four of his limbs were grabbed, secured to the bed he had been sleeping on. His eyes flew open, immediately picking out Silas and Jacquil standing over him, smirking. “Nononono… let me go. I’m not… No…”

"Look who's decided to join us this morning. Did you sleep well?" Jacquil's eyes traveled down John's naked body to his morning erection.

"Please..." John struggled a bit. With horror, he wasn't sure whether he was asking to be released or touched, and he flushed.

"Please what, slave?" Silas asked.

"John. My name is John Sheppard." He focused on that, trying to push aside the other need that was slowly building in him. What the hell had they given him yesterday?

"Maybe at one time. Not any longer." Jacquil turned to Silas, an eyebrow raised. "What shall we name him?"

"No. I am Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard. Military commander of the earth outpost in Pegasus. Team leader--"

"Jita. I think I like Jita," Jacquil said, ignoring John. "The conquered one."

Silas nodded. “Yes. That is a good name for him. Ashira wants him trained, and as soon as possible. Where shall we start?”

Jacquil sat down on the side of the bed, his hand on John's cock, slowly stroking him. "It seems as if Jita has chosen for us."

Moaning, John tried to pull away, but the restraints wouldn't let him. The itchy feeling started to build again, making him twitch. "No please oh god..."

The arousal began to build, John squirming and shifting on the bed trying to talk his body down, trying to get his body to stop reacting. Before he could reach completion, just as he was on the edge, Jacquil stopped, pulling back. "Look at him, Silas. Look at him begging for release even without the pria."

John whimpered, closing his eyes. He started reciting primes in his head, trying to convince his body that this was not an appropriate reaction. At the same time, the mention of the pria made his mouth water, his body tingle. He wanted it, wanted more, and the need made him hate himself a little.

Jacquil's chuckle was dirty. "Two doses and he longs for it." He grabbed John's cock. "Do you feel this? Do you feel how aroused you are?"

John shook his head, even as he arched up.

"This is how you will be all the time, aroused and ready for your new master. But I see you're already prepared for that, already wanting it."

No. John wouldn't... He wouldn't... As he panted, something was slipped into his mouth. Pria. He swallowed instinctively, and a few minutes later started to move on the sheets, trying to get more sensation. His thoughts, fears, doubts—the fight—went out of him. All he wanted now was to be touched, to come.

"Good, Jita. Very good." A hand petted him, touching him everywhere except where he needed, wanted.

He leaned into each caress as much as the restraints would allow, the praise skimming along his skin, warming him. "Come? Let me come? Please?"

"No, Jita. You are to stay like this today."

Eyes that had fallen closed flew open. He whined, deep in his throat, trying to thrust up and getting no friction in the air.

The bed shifted and John…Jita…was alone, his eyes flying open. "Restrain him so he can't get off and keep feeding him pria. He needs to get used to it," Jacquil said to Silas, already moving away.

"Nonono…Oh...Please..." But his begging got him nowhere.

He spent the rest of the day so aroused he hurt. He was fed and given water—and more pria—and every time his erection started to flag, Silas touched him, brought him right to the edge again. By that evening, John was sobbing, desperate. Anything, he would do anything to be allowed to come.

"Look at him, Silas. He wants it so badly. Shall we help him?"

John panted, his mouth falling open. He knew it was near time for another dose of pria. His eyes followed Jacquil around the room, hungry.

"You want more pria, Jita?" Jacquil asked, his eyebrow raised.

He nodded, wiggling, trying to look attractive, desirable. "So good, I've been good, please..."

"Yes, you have been. You like how the pria makes you feel?"

"Yes." He arched up as Jacquil stroked his chest. "Please, master... more, please... hurts..."

"I am not your master, Jita. I am simply your caretaker until you are worthy of your master." Jacquil's hand drifted down to John's cock, stroking him. "Do you want to come? You've been aroused all day begging for it."

He keened. "Good, please, I'll be so good, need to come..."

Jacquil's hand sped up. "Come if you can."

It was all Jita needed. With a scream he came, his body spasming so hard, the world blacked out. When he came back to himself, the restraints were gone, and someone was petting his head. He purred, leaning into it a bit, the only movement he was capable of at the moment.

Another piece of fruit was touched to his lips and he opened his mouth eagerly, chewing and swallowing it. "Very good, Jita. It's time for the baths. You've had a long day. Silas will take care of you."

The pleasure of the pria washed through him, more languid this time. He nuzzled the hand that lingered, kissing it. When he was passed to Silas, he practically draped himself over the man, kissing and nuzzling at his neck.

"You are learning, Jita. Do you like feeling this way?"

"Mmmmm." He looked at Jacquil with heavy eyes, nodding. Everything felt so good.

"If you behave and do as you are told you can always feel so peaceful, so relaxed. Would you like that?"

He nodded again, purring his contentment. He would obey. Jita was a good boy, would do as he was told so they would let him feel so wonderful.

"Very good, Jita," Jacquil said, the praise warming him. "Silas will see to your bath."

After the bath, he was brought back to the bed, which had been cleaned with fresh sheets. He slept, floating. When the slant of the morning sun woke him, he immediately knew it had been hours since his last dose of pria. There was no one else in the room yet, so Jita sat up, on his knees, bowing his head. He hoped this would please them, so he could have more soon.

He didn’t know how much time passed before Jita heard footfalls against the floor, before he saw sandal-clad feet beside his sleeping pallet. "And what is this?" Jacquil. It was Jacquil.

He opened his mouth and looked up, expression hopeful.

Jacquil's expression turned from curiosity to amusement. "You wish more pria?"

Jita let his eyes close partially, letting his look, his body language turn seductive. He didn't close his mouth.

"Have you touched yourself?"

He shook his head, shifting so Jacquil could see he was hard. He knew better. Knew that even if it felt good for a moment, it would mean he got no pria. "I was good." He licked his lips before opening his mouth again.

"But you're not in the right position. Here, let me show you" Jacquil said, hand on John's limbs, easing him into another position, a variation of the one he held now. Jacquil pushed his legs open, making sure his cock was on display. Jita's arms were pushed gently behind him until his hands were touching and he instinctively held them together, getting a "very good" in response. The hand at the back of his neck, eased his head down.

"This is the position you will take if you are ever alone and awake. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Jacquil. I'm sorry I didn't know this morning. I promise, I won't forget again." He panted a little. This position felt more like sex, like he could be taken, and he was starting to feel a little desperate.

"Good. Very good. I know you will not forget and I am proud of you that you took the initiative to wait for me. Here," he said, fruit touching Jita's lips. "This is for you."

He opened his mouth, moaning as the pria exploded inside him. The itchy, out of place feeling disappeared, replaced with the sweet warmth of pleasure curling around his fingers and toes, pooling in the hollow of his back. His eyes drifted shut, and he swayed, loving the way the slight air currents felt around him.

"Good. Can you stay like this, hold this position until I return?"

"Yes, sir. Anything you wish, sir." He risked looking up, adoring. Jacquil gave him pria, let him come if he was good.

"Silas and I will return throughout the day to check on you. If you're good you will get more pria each time. Tonight, if you are good, you will come."

He purred, nodding his understanding as he let his head fall back into the position Jacquil had placed it in. He would be good.

He once more spent the day in a state of arousal, but although he was left alone for much of it, unbound, he didn't touch himself or break the position in any way. Each time someone came to check on him, he was rewarded with more praise and pria. By the end of the day, while his muscles were a little stiff, he didn’t care. He wondered if it would be okay to ask Jacquil to fuck him. The thought of being taken made him shiver with need.

He heard them coming before they even entered his room, Silas and Jacquil. It must be time. He shivered in anticipation. "..has been like this all day. Jita's been doing well with his training so far," Jacquil was saying.

"When will he be ready for my chambers?" This voice was new. No, not new…Ashira. His master.

Jita shivered again, adjusting his posture so it was perfect. Maybe his master would touch him, let him come. Maybe he would fuck him, or at least finger him. Jita had a feeling that was something only Ashira could do to him, when he considered it.

"Soon. He's still very tight. Would you like to stretch him? Try him out?"

Jita whimpered softly, imaging the feel of fingers inside him. By the time two sets of feet appeared in his line of sight, he was panting, his erection leaking at the thought of what he might be given tonight.

"Look up, Jita," Jacquil said quietly. "Greet your master."

He immediately raised his head, openly wanting, aroused. "Master."

Ashira smiled, obviously pleased. "Are you eager to serve me, Jita?"

"Yes, master. Want to feel you inside me, master. Please." Jita hoped that was okay, but god he wanted...

"Has he been this willing since he arrived?"

Jacquil nodded. "Under the influence of the pria he begs shamelessly, and does whatever we tell him. And he knows better than we do when it begins to wear off. I found him waiting for me this morning on his knees, begging for more."

"Good. Make sure he gets all he wants," Ashira said, moving forward, his hand caressing Jita's face. "I like him like this."

Jita leaned into it, turning his face slightly to nuzzle. His master would make sure he never had to go without. He would be so good for him, would do whatever he wanted.

"Hands and knees, Jita. I want to see your ass."

Scrambling, he did as he was told, body quivering with anticipation. He spread his legs as far as he could, putting his shoulders down on the bed so as to present his ass better.

"Very good," Jacquil said, his hands on John's body positioning him. "This is how you are to present yourself when your master asks for your ass."

"Yes, sir." He whispered it. Even those light touches made him ache with need.

Jacquil's hand stayed on the back of his neck and suddenly there were hands on his ass and one lubed finger sliding into him.

Jita moaned, trying to push back onto it. It burned a little, but the pleasure outweighed it. He wanted more, wanted—

"Shhh…take it. Relax," Jacquil said, pressing a fruit to Jita's lips.

He opened his mouth, moaning again as he realized it was pria. When Ashira added a second finger, and hit his prostate, Jita's world exploded. He wasn't entirely sure how he kept himself from coming. "P…please. N...eed to c...come. Please..."

"Soon," Ashira said, as he added a third finger, stretching him. A moment later, Jita felt the fingers slide out and a cock positioned at his entrance before it was sliding in, taking him.

Jita moaned, pushing back, wanting more, wanting to feel full, and fucked. He whimpered, screamed, every time his prostate was tagged. But his master hadn't told him he could come yet, so Jita held on, desperately, trying to please even as his body was overwhelmed with pleasure.

Ashira leaned forward, whispering into his ear. "Come for me. I want to feel you."

Sobbing, Jita obeyed, coming hard, contracting around the cock buried inside him, which only made it better, made him feel full, complete. Only willpower kept him from collapsing into the bed as his body continued to twitch with aftershocks.

A few hard thrusts and Ashira was coming, filling him deep inside. He pulled out a few moments later, letting the come drip down Jita's thighs. "Keep this one prepared at all times, even before his training is complete. You have done well, Jacquil."

Jita quivered as a hand ran down his back. Since he couldn't reach Ashira, he tried to nuzzle at Jacquil's hand, wanting to kiss and be kissed.

"No, Jita," Jacquil commanded quietly.

He stilled, but couldn't help the small whine that escaped his throat.

Ashira ran his fingers through Jita's hair before walking out the door. "Let's get you cleaned up," Jacquil said after a few moments. "We'll also have to keep you ready for him in case he wants to fuck you again."

"Y...yes sir." Jita rolled onto his side slowly. His body still ached to be touched, and he felt his cheeks go damp with frustration.

"Shush. You will be cared for, touched, caressed, and fucked regularly. Most slaves would be happy with that."

He continued to feel the tears leaking out, but nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll try, sir."

"Shush, Jita," Jacquil said and Jita felt the bed dip under his weight as he sat, his hand rubbing his shoulder. "You will grow used to this life, this way of things. Do you trust me?"

He leaned into the caress, sighing as his muscles relaxed, uncurling at the connection. "Yes. Just want to be touched. Feels so good. Don't even need to come, not all the time, just...just touched... is that bad? Am I bad for wanting that?"

"No. No, you're not bad, but you have to be content with what Ashira gives you. Sometimes you'll be in constant demand and other times he will chose another. Be content with what you receive and you will be much happier.

He nodded, tears leaking out again. "Will he let me kiss him? I remember kissing. I remember liking it, liking the taste, the way it feels in my mouth. Can... can I suck on my fingers? It wouldn't be as good as kissing, but... I don't want to be bad. I don't want to have the pria taken away." His eyes went wide as he looked at Jacquil. "You'll tell me if I'm being bad, right? If I need to stop or I won't get pria?" Panic began to well up.

"Yes, I will tell you, so let's go through some ground rules since I believe it's time for you to hear them. Okay?"

John nodded, scooting closer so their legs were touching.

"You will learn several more positions and their names so you can assume them on command. The one you learned this morning is the one you will use when no one has given you a command. Do you understand?"

"On my knees? Or so Master can take me, make me so full..." Jita trailed off, his body tingling pleasantly at the memory.

"Kneeling, hands behind your back, head down."

"Okay." That one hadn't been bad, and he had gotten pria for holding it.

"Good." Jacquil nodded, petting Jita's head, fingers walking through his hair. "You will not touch yourself in any way that will make you come, unless you have been specifically instructed to do so. There is no kissing. Ashira does not kiss and does not wish his slaves to do so. Do not ask for it."

Jita was torn between purring at the contact, and whining in disappointment that he would never be kissed. But it was not his decision, he knew. So he nodded. "Can I touch myself if it doesn't make me come? If it just feels good?"

"No. You will only be touched when ordered by Ashira. Your pleasure is centered around your master. If you make him happy, he will make you happy. Do you understand? Only Silas and I will touch you otherwise. We do not need permission. If you have a problem, come see one of us and we will help you to take care of it."

Jita relaxed, melting back into Jacquil, into his caresses. "Okay. Will…will the master ever get tired of me? Will I be able to come to you if he doesn't want me anymore? I'll do my best to please him, but... but what if he doesn't like me anymore? If he gets someone he likes better?"

"If he tires of you, he will sell you to someone who desires you. But you shall not have that problem, so do not worry about it. Also, you will keep yourself stretched and lubed for him. He does not like plugs, so you will have to do it with your fingers every few hours."

Jita shivered at the thought. "I'm allowed to touch myself there? I...I don't know if I can, not that often, without coming. I'll try, but I don't want to be punished. Can...can you do it?"

"No. That is your responsibility. If you come, you will be punished. Remember that." Jacquil paused for a moment, his fingers still stroking Jita's head. "You will also be taught how to prepare your body each and every morning. You must cleanse yourself of every impurity and if you have difficulties we have herbs to aid in the process. After, you will need to use an anal douche to make sure you are completely clean before you apply the lube and stretch yourself in the morning."

Jita uncurled a little, moving so he was pressed against Jacquil more firmly, in more places. He wasn't getting hard again, but it made him relax further. He craved the touch. "Yes, sir. I'll be very good. Do whatever you want. I promise. So good..."

"You will also be instructed on how to adorn yourself and how to dress yourself. You are a prized possession of Master Ashira and you will reflect that when you are in his court and in any public room. The only time you can relax will be for the few short hours when you are permitted to sleep in your room. And that will be done in the nude."

Jita hummed, remembering the nipple rings. He liked those. "Like before. Make me pretty so I'll please the master, so he'll touch me."

"Yes. Exactly. Also, you are not to speak to anyone except me, Silas, and your master. We are your family and the only ones you need to be concerned with."

Jita angled his head so he could see Jacquil's face. "Not the other slaves? Not even the others for...for the master?" He hated them, just a little, even though he hadn't met them yet. If he was touching them, he wasn't touching Jita.

"No. Will that be a problem?"

Jita shook his head. "No. I..." He flushed. "Am I... do I have to share you with anyone else? I... I know the master can choose whomever he wants but... You and Silas... do I... compete... Like them better..."

"Silas and I are responsible for you. That is all you need to know."

He closed his eyes, arching into Jacquil's hand a little. "Yes, sir. Make you proud of me. Make you like me best."

"Good. That is enough rules for now. I believe we should get you cleaned up and then get you fed and tucked in for the night. Come," he said, rising, offering Jita his hand. "Let us go to the baths and I shall show you where everything is kept."

Purring, Jita slipped his hand into Jacquil's following him easily. He was tired, and he knew the pria would start to wear off soon. Maybe if he was extra good in the baths, he would be allowed another dose before bed.

The next few days passed much the same. Jita learned more commands, learned what was expected of him. He only had to be punished twice, for not holding a position correctly, or for being too forward. Fortunately, it just meant withholding pria for a dose. Unfortunately, it meant he got no pria for a while, and by the time his punishment time was over, he was almost sobbing with need, begging Jacquil’s forgiveness.

Ashira came by several more times during his training, fucking him, petting him. It always left Jita feeling torn, sated, but crying because it ended too soon—fortunately, either Jacquil or Silas always sat with him after, petting him until he relaxed again.

His days were much the same, until one morning he woke up and assumed his usual position waiting. But instead of just Jacquil coming in to teach him something new, both his trainer and Silas showed up.

"Good morning, Jita. How are you?"

Lifting his head, mouth open and panting, Jita tried to frame a response. It was getting harder and harder to think in the mornings, before he had been given his pria. "I... I am well. And you, sir?"

"Well." Jacquil said. "Today is a big day for you, Jita. Ashira wishes you to be in attendance in his court. But you must be prepared. Do you remember what you must do?"

Jita's eyes went wide, but he nodded slowly. He shivered. He had been told that after his first court appearance he would be taken back to his master's bed, and would spend the night pleasing him. Jita was always a little aroused in the morning. Now, even without pria, he went to the achingly hard stage, whimpering softly.

"Good. You will get several extra doses of pria today since it is your first day in his court," Jacquil said, pressing the red fruit to his lips. "Here is your first. You will receive another after you finish bathing this morning."

Jita moaned as he swallowed. Extra pria! He would be so good. He would make Jacquil and Silas proud of him. He wasn't aware he had said it out loud until they both laughed at him.

"You already have. Today is your reward. Come, let us get you ready," Jacquil said with a smile, offering his hand to lift Jita up off his knees.

He went, concentrating hard on the morning routine, trying to make sure he didn't forget anything. By the time he was lubing and stretching himself, he was aching, it felt so good, and forcing himself to stop before he came was so hard. He had to stand in the middle of the prep room and breathe hard, head down, as he fought for control.

"Good, Jita. You are doing very well," Jacquil praised. "Breathe through it."

Knowing he wouldn't be allowed to come today until he was in the master's bed made his whole body ache with need. Slowly, he pushed it back, until he was sure he could continue dressing without disobeying and disappointing his family.

"Good. Very good." Jacquil's words helped him concentrate as Silas handed him each embellishment and item he needed to have on and in place.

Jita found the jewelry almost calming. Putting it on reminded him of his duties, and gave him something physical to focus on. He loved the silky material that went on over it, the way it caressed his skin with every movement. Last was the paints, which Silas had to do for him. Closing his eyes, dark outlines were drawn around them, with green on his lids to match the silks. His lips were painted as well, a deep red color. When he was done, it had been several hours. Standing in the middle of the room, Jita watched nervously as Jacquil and Silas inspected him.

"I think he is ready," Silas finally said with a careful eye on Jita.

"Almost," Jacquil said, approaching slowly.

Jita cocked his head, questioning. He wanted to be perfect for the master. Wanted to please.

Jacquil lifted his hands, showing Jita two small red fruits.

He immediately opened his mouth. One he recognized as pria. He hadn't seen the other before, but he trusted Jacquil.

Jacquil put the pria on his tongue first, the sweet and tart taste bursting in his mouth as he chewed. Jita opened his mouth a second time, waiting. "This is a very special fruit which will keep you hard all day and most of the night. Even if you come, you will find that your cock does not need much time to recover. Ashira likes his slaves to appear ready always. He may even permit you to fuck another slave."

Jita moaned at the thought, panting a little. He could remember fucking, like kissing, from another time. Before pria, before Ashira. It was more a fuzzy memory than anything else, but he was sure it would feel very good. The taste as it dissolved on his tongue was exotic, making him quiver with want.

"Are you okay, Jita?"

He was shaking, so hard, so aroused, it was painful. He was trying not to come, trying so hard, but it was difficult. With wild eyes, he sought Jacquil's face. "I can't... make me stop... Don't want to come..."

Jacquil tugged him forward, arms wrapping around him. "Concentrate on breathing, on my arms around you and nothing else."

Jita collapsed into his arms, eyes closed as he breathed Jacquil's scent, focused on his arms, holding Jita so tight. Finally, after what felt like a long time, the overpowering need faded. He was still aroused, but he could control it again. With a sigh, he nuzzled Jacquil's neck softly for a moment before he forced himself to pull away.

"Better?"

"Yes. Thank you." He smiled, wishing he could fall to his knees and make Jacquil feel good. He had never tried, and was afraid to ask.

"Good. You will be fed pria and other delicacies in Ashira's court. Eat and drink anything given to you."

Jita nodded. He knew he would be placed at Ashira's feet. He was allowed to nuzzle his master's legs, but nothing more than that unless ordered. "I'll make you proud of me."

"You already have. No other has been so responsive. Come, let us present you to our Master."

Warm from the praise, Jita followed his trainers down the halls. The extra pria made him feel like he was floating. They paused outside the doors, Jacquil and Silas adjusting him a bit to ensure he was perfect, before guards opened them, and he was led inside. As soon as they reached the appropriate distance, Jita fell to his knees, taking the waiting position as he had been instructed, until his master made his wishes known.

It took a few moments before he heard his Master's voice. "Jita? Jita, look at me."

He immediately looked up, meeting Ashira's gaze. Jita was panting and hoped, prayed, he pleased his master.

"Beautiful. So very beautiful. You shall only eat from my hand this day. Come to me."

Rising with practiced grace, he moved to where Ashira had indicated, on his knees, at his master's right hand. He was flushed with the compliment, and stared up with a little bit of adoration, almost trembling with anticipation of being touched.

And Ashira did not disappoint, running his hand along Jita's face, stroking his neck and collarbone. "Yes, Jacquil. He is perfect. You have done well. Fasten his hands behind his back. I wish him to rely on me entirely today."

Jita moaned and leaned in slightly as he placed his hands behind his back even before Jacquil had approached. Yes, he belonged to Ashira. Please his master, and his master would make him happy.

Ashira chuckled warmly, his hand stroking Jita's face as Jacquil locked Jita's hands behind his back with a gold lock, handing over the key to Ashira before stepping back. "Thank you, Master. I'm glad you approve."

Jita opened his mouth to accept the small morsel of food Ashira pressed to his lips. He closed his eyes, getting lost in the sensations of being touched by his master, pleasing him with Jita's obedience.

The day went by quickly as Jita sat at his master's feet, eating and drinking what he was given—including several more pria fruits—and relaxing against Ashira's legs, reveling in the feeling of completeness and contentment.

At almost all times, Ashira was touching him, petting him. Jita could not remember the last time he had so much contact—even Jacquil and Silas only touched him for short periods of time. By the end of the evening—there were entertainments, and he was fairly sure Ashira had conducted some business at some point—Jita was both boneless with happiness and achingly hard.

"Jita, you have pleased me greatly. I have a surprise for you," Ashira said, his words whispered in his ear.

Shuddering, Jita looked up at his master, open, trusting, wanting. He would make his master happy. Anything Ashira wanted.

Ashira leaned over, unlocked his hands before he sat up and gestured to someone else in the room. Another slave was brought forward—stocky, pale, and bound and gagged. He was fighting his guards a little as he was brought into the room, and was eventually secured in place—ass up—in the center of the floor.

"Jita, he is yours. Fuck him until he cannot take any more. Enjoy yourself."

Jita's eyes had gone wide. He looked at the man, and back at his master. Something about this seemed wrong, but Ashira pushed another dose of pria into his mouth, and Jita moaned. He would do whatever pleased his master. Rising, he went down to the floor, to the slave. He found a small bowl of lube and pressed a finger inside him, memory from another time telling him how to make it feel good.

The slave bucked under Jita's hand, but he continued stretching him, loving the ass in front of him. He was so hard it hurt, but he would wait until he was buried in his slave's ass.

"Very good, Jita. He was purchased at the same time as you, but has proved to be…difficult. You must help with his training," Ashira said, watching carefully, a smile on his face.

Jita nodded. He wished he could talk to the man, but he knew it was not allowed. "Yes, master. Whatever pleases you." He pushed a second finger inside the man, stretching him.

"You please me, Jita."

Trembling and flushing with the compliment, Jita continued to stretch the slave until three fingers moved easily. "Can....can I come when I'm inside him master? Or should I wait for you, for later?"

"Come as many times as you wish while you fuck him. He is yours until he cannot take any more. We shall still have our pleasure later." Ashira smiled at him, his hand inside his robes and Jita realized his master was stroking himself as he watched him. By fucking this slave he was bringing his master pleasure.

Jita moaned as he pressed inside the man, tight heat surrounding him. He was pleasing his master, making him happy. Some part of him directed his movements, until he knew he was brushing the man's prostate by the surprised noise, and then the muffled moans. Jita began to move, going slow, trying to draw it out for Ashira. By the end, he had come multiple times, and the slave twice, before the other man seemed to collapse, unconscious. Jita pulled free, still shaking with need, wanting to be touched. He looked at Ashira, unsure what he should do now.

Ashira was panting, breathing heavily as he wiped his cock and hand, obviously having come himself. "You are beautiful, Jita. So beautiful. Come stand by me and let me clean you."

He moved quickly, standing beside his master. He was hard and leaking again—he wondered absently if Jacquil would let him have the second fruit every time he served Ashira. It was glorious to serve his master in any way and as much as Ashira asked him to.

Ashira cleaned his cock with the cloth, speaking to him the entire time. "You were beautiful, Jita. So perfect. Trained so well. You made me come three times just watching you take that slave. Did you like it? Did you like fucking that slave? Maybe I'll have you do that everyday. But tonight you are mine. Do you want it hard and fast or slow? You will be fucked several times tonight. You will know me, what I like, how it feels to be mine."

Jita moaned, arching into each touch. "Master, oh yours, I'm yours. Take me slow master, want to ache for you, please you."

"Oh, you will," Ashira said. "But I want you all to myself. No one gets to see me take you. You are mine. Turn for me. I want to fasten your hands again. We still have several hours of court time and I wish to feed you again."

Jita did as he was told, moaning again in anticipation. He resumed his position at Ashira's side, nuzzling against his master's leg.

Ashira fed him throughout the evening—various finger foods, more pria, and another of the small fruits Jacquil had given him that morning. One hour melted into the next as he relaxed at his master's feet, loving each and every touch and caress he received.

He was floating in a haze of pleasure, blind and deaf to everything except his master, what Ashira wanted. He stared at him with adoration and arousal, and knew his master could read him like an open book. The thought made him shiver with need, and even that felt good, tendrils of pleasure pooling in his fingers and toes.

His master finally looked down at him, offering a smile. "Are you ready for bed, Jita?"

"Oh yes, master." It came out breathless, his chest heaving with anticipation.

Ashira clapped his hands as he stood. "Today's court is adjourned." Those still in the room, hurried out after bidding Ashira good night. Once they were gone, he turned his attention back to Jita, smiling down on him. "Come. Let us retire. I want to take you several times tonight."

Jita nodded, rising with only a little difficulty since his hands were still secured behind him. He wondered if his master would let him use his mouth. He knew he could please Ashira, and it made his mouth water. Ashira laughed softly at his eagerness.

"Yes, you shall suck me," Ashira said, obviously reading his mind as they walked through the palace toward his bedroom, Jita remaining exactly one step behind, his head tilted down—just as Jacquil had taught him.

Panting Jita thought it was the longest walk of his life. When they were finally in the bedroom, he was shaking, his cock hard and red, moist at the tip. His mouth watered as he waited for Ashira to tell him what he wanted.

"You will come several times tonight. I love how you look when you come," he said moving behind Jita, unlocking his hands from behind his back, and placing the lock on a small table by the door. "Strip down to your skin, but leave the embellishments on. Get on the bed on your back."

Hurrying to comply, Jita quickly removed the silks, climbing onto the huge bed. He sank into it a little as he settled on his back, spreading his legs wide in invitation. He hoped his master would be as pleased with him like this as he was in the court.

Ashira chuckled as he shed his own clothes. "Eager. I like that. You're going to suck me first and you're going to come with my cock in your mouth."

Jita moaned, his body arching up into the air at the thought. He had to close his eyes and focus on how his fingernails were cutting into his palms, where his fists were clenched tight, to keep from coming right there.

The next thing he knew and Ashira was hovering over him, his cock touching Jita's lips. "Make it good for me, Jita. Make it good and I want you to come as many times as you want tonight. Don't hold back."

Opening both his eyes and his mouth, Jita hummed as his master pushed between his lips, sucking hard. At that first taste, since he had been given permission, Jita came, hard, knowing it was splashing on Ashira's back. But he continued to suck, using his tongue to bring his master pleasure even as his own body twitched.

Ashira moaned and groaned above him, head thrown back in pleasure as Jita sucked him, using everything he could think of to keep his master on the edge, to make it good. He finally yelled and came down Jita's throat, pouring stream after stream until he was shaking slightly. He pulled out and collapsed next to him on the bed breathing heavily. "Come here," he panted, lifting an arm for Jita to slide in under.

With another hum, this time of happiness, Jita slipped into his master's arms. He loved being held after he came, so he relaxed completely, with his head on Ashira's shoulder, one hand resting on his master's chest.

Ashira reached down, stroking Jita's cock with a firm grip, tugging another orgasm from Jita's body.

He hadn't been expecting it, so it startled almost a scream from him. He was left trembling against Ashira, almost trying to climb into his master's skin.

"Feel good?"

"Mmmmm." He hummed, nuzzling at the patch of skin closest to him. "Oh yes... Master..."

"Good," he said, tugging Jita close. After a moment, Jita realized his master was hard again, his erection pressing into his thigh.

Tentatively, not sure if it was allowed, and moving slow enough that Ashira could tell him no, Jita reached for it, wanting to touch.

"Jita?"

"Yes, master?" He froze, fingers just inches from their goal.

"What would you like?"

"Want to touch you, master. Make you feel as good as you make me feel."

"Go ahead."

Making a little happy noise, Jita wrapped his fingers around Ashira. It was the first time he had just gotten to touch, so he learned the feel, tried different grips and speeds, learning what his master liked. It was almost disappointing when Ashira came again, since that meant he had to stop. Turning his face back up, he waited to see if his master approved or not.

Ashira was panting, smiling at him, and looking loose and sated. "Give me a minute and you can continue."

"Mmmmm." Jita smiled. He trailed his fingers up Ashira's chest touching a nipple and looking to see if that was allowed.

"Touch me, Jita. Make me feel good. Continue until I tell you otherwise."

"Oh yes." Wiggling out of Ashira's arms, Jita sat up, ducking his head to take a nipple between his lips, even as he toyed with the other. He used every trick he could think of, wondering if his master was as sensitive as he was, and would come just from this.

He worked at the nipples for several minutes, touching and stroking and pleasuring until he felt Ashira shudder under him, come splashing against his skin as he climaxed again.

Smiling into his master's skin, Jita lifted his head briefly, before mouthing a trail down Ashira's chest. He hadn't been told to stop, so he continued south, until he could suck his master's balls into his mouth, rolling them with his tongue.

Ashira's legs opened for him, giving him more room and Jita could see his master's erection slowly hardening once again as he moaned and groaned in pleasure.

Humming, knowing it would feel good, Jita continued to use his mouth, wrapping his hand around his master's dick again, this time using just his thumb on the tip, swirling through the pre-come gathering there again.

Jita continued to pleasure his master, loving the sounds he made, the twitching and squirming his body did on the bed. Ashira came again, spilling come on Jita's face and neck.

Lifting his head, he licked as much of it off as he could, then used his fingers—dragging them through the come and licking it off—to get the rest.

Ashira groaned as he watched Jita. "Come here. Come up here. I want to touch you."

Climbing up his master's body, Jita groaned as he was pulled down, their cocks lining up with each other. Jita pushed his face into Ashira's neck panting with his mouth open, wishing desperately that he could kiss him.

The rubbed their cocks together, Ashira's hands stroking Jita's back, fingernails digging in until they both shuddered, coming within seconds of each other, panting and gasping in pleasure. Ashira pushed Jita onto his back a moment later before sitting up, switching direction so he was lying on his side, his mouth lined up with Jita's slowly hardening cock.

"So beautiful," he whispered, licking the tip.

Jita panted hips lifting slightly. "Yours, master. All yours."

Ashira pulled back a moment later. "On your side. I want you sucking me as I suck you."

Jita did as he was told, licking at the tip of Ashira's dick even before they were both in place.

Ashira groaned. "Good, so good. Make me feel good, Jita."

"Yes, master. Always." Jita sucked him down, taking him in all the way, until he was bumping the back of his throat. He heard Ashira groan, even as he did the same to Jita. It didn't take long for both of them to come again. Jita licked him clean before falling back onto the bed. Even with the drugs in his system, he was starting to feel heavy. He had a moment of panic that he would displease his master by falling asleep, and forced his eyes open again.

"I want to fuck you before we sleep. We can rest and continue in a little while."

Jita crawled slowly, working his way into his master's arms again. The snort of amusement encouraged him, so he snuggled in as close as he could get, relaxing.

"You are my favorite," Ashira said with a contented sigh.

Jita's body hummed with the praise. He pressed his lips softly to Ashira's chest. "I wish only to please you, master. Always."

"Good. On your knees. You're prepared, right?"

He nodded, climbing back up, assuming the position he had been taught. He was a little tight, since he had been in court all day, but there was enough lube, and he had been stretching himself consistently enough over the last several days that it would only burn a little, and then it would feel fantastic. "Fuck me, master. Want to feel you all day tomorrow. Until I can please you again."

"I'll take you now and again in the morning before you return to your room. Hold still."

Jita moaned in arousal, locking his muscles in place so he wouldn't be tempted to push back.

Ashira pushed in with one stroke, filling him. He didn't stay still, pulling out and pushing in again and again, taking Jita hard, claiming the rest of his body and soul and mind.

Jita came, and then came again a few minutes later as his prostate was tagged. By the time Ashira filled him, Jita was his, completely. He was allowed to collapse into the bed, panting hard, when his master pulled out a minute later.

"Good, so good," Ashira said, panting as he collapsed next to him. "Come over here and let's sleep for a while."

Purring, Jita climbed once more into his master's arms, nuzzling, sated, relaxed.

Ashira's arms closed around him, holding him close as they both closed their eyes, tumbling headlong into slumber.

When he woke the next morning, Jita's body ached, everything sore, and the itchy feeling that told him he needed pria was back in full force. He wasn't aware he was whimpering until another body moved against him, rolling him onto his back.

"Tell me what you need."

"Pria. Master, please, more, need..." He opened his mouth, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

"Shhh…no need to get upset. I have some," he said, reaching over Jita. He pressed something to his lips a moment later. "Here. Take these two."

He chewed and swallowed, immediately relaxing as the effects washed through him, taking away the pain. He hummed, opening his eyes and smiling sweetly. "Thank you, master."

"Next time do not wait so long. Wake me if you need pria. Do you understand? I do not want to see you hurting."

Jita nodded, upset that he had upset Ashira. "I'm sorry, master. I did not mean to upset you." He spread his legs angling his ass up, batting his eyes coquettishly. "You said you wanted to fuck me this morning?"

"I’m not upset. I do not like to see my favorites hurting or in pain. And yes," he smiled, "I want to fuck you. Can you take me without anything?"

Jita just spread his legs further, smiling. "For you, master, always."

"Good," he said, getting up on his knees as he smacked Jita's ass. "You are so good." He positioned himself and pushed in. There should have been more lube, but Jita didn't care.

He moaned, pushing back, until Ashira was buried inside him. "Oh, so good, so full..."

Ashira tugged him up so he was sitting in his lap, his master's hand on his nipples. "Let's see how many times you can come this morning."

Jita screamed as the rings were tugged on, coming immediately. He panted for several seconds before he began to move, riding his master. He was getting hard again—the other drug was still lingering in his system—and as Ashira continued to play with his nipples, Jita trembled, continuously losing his rhythm.

"I want you so tired from sex that you sleep today away," Ashira said, running his hands on Jita's body, tugging on his nipples, stroking his cock.

"Oooohhh. Yesss. Oh Master... Ashira... More..." He was fucking himself hard on Ashira's cock now, head thrown back and his hands on his master's shoulders.

"Come for me," he whispered, hands on Jita's cock, grip firm and sure as his other hand rolled his balls.

Jita screamed again as he came, orgasm rolling through him in waves. This time he blacked out, coming to several minutes later with an amused Ashira staring down at him. "Love being fucked by you, master..." He whispered it softly.

"And I'm not done yet," he smiled down at him, thrusting into Jita's ass.

Jita screamed again, but spread his legs, welcoming it. He trembled as he was claimed, again, fucked until he came yet again, his dick beginning to ache with all the orgasms. But he didn't care. He just spread himself further open, for Ashira's pleasure.

Ashira finally pulled out, lying next to Jita on the bed, his hand playing with his nipples. "How many more times can you come this morning?"

Jita shuddered, feeling himself get hard again. "I...I don't know, master. How many more times do you want me to come? Anything you want."

"Let's try for another two," he said after a moment. "And only from me playing with your nipples."

Panting, Jita nodded, already arching into it. He loved having his nipples played with, and he came again, several minutes later, moaning as he arched his chest up into the touches.

"Good. So good," Ashira said, sitting up so he had better access, not stopping his play.

Wriggling, the sensations slowly started to build again, until Jita was almost sobbing. When Ashira gave one of the rings a harsh pull, he cried out, his master's name on his lips, as he came yet again.

  
Ashira began to pet him, caressing him as Jita slowly came down. "So beautiful. So perfect. You are mine, Jita. All mine. No one else can have you."

He purred. "Yes, master. Yours. I only want you."

"Jacquil will be in shortly to take care of you. You will rest today, get your strength. Tomorrow you will be in my court and in my bed again."

He shuddered, curling as close to Ashira as he could. "Not tonight? I can be ready for you tonight, master. Please."

"No. You need to rest. I want you fresh tomorrow so you can go all night long."

He looked up, a soft smile on his face. "Yes. Anything you wish. I'll be ready for you, master. All night. I'll please you."

"You already do. Now rest and wait for Jacquil. He will take care of you and I will see you tomorrow in my court." Ashira slid out of bed padding to the bathroom, the door closing behind him.

Jita relaxed, smiling. He drifted, dozing, until Jacquil came for him. He looked up, lazy and sated. "I made him happy. I pleased him. He wants me back tomorrow."

"He told me. I am happy for you, Jita. Very happy." He offered Jita a small red fruit as he helped him sit up. "We need to get your cleaned and fed and then into bed. You look exhausted."

Jita purred around the pria, letting it wash through him, leaving him languid as Jacquil helped him to stand. "Didn't sleep much. I think the other drug you gave me is finally starting to wear off. Can I have it again tomorrow? It pleases Ashira when I come for him, as much as he wants."

"Yes, of course." Jacquil ushered him through the halls until he reached the bathroom he used. "Go and take a shower, but stay awake. I will come and get you in a few minutes."

"'Kay." He moved slowly, washing and performing the cleaning rituals he had been taught. By the time he was done, stripped of all his jewelry and squeaky clean, Jita was swaying on his feet. Silas found him that way, barely upright, mouth open as he vaguely waited for food.

"Hungry?"

"Mmmm hmmm."

"Come with me. We have several trays in your room along with your allocation of pria for the day. You are to relax and rest today."

"'Kay." he stumbled a little, but Silas helped him back to his bed. He ate everything on the plate as he watched his trainers work, preparing him for bed. "Will someone wake me up for pria later? It hurts when I go too long without it."

"Your allocation is here beside you. Do not eat more than one at a time. These five must last you the day."

He hummed, happy. They hadn't let him dose himself before, he had always had to wait. "I'll be good. So good... felt so good..."

"Remember. Five for the day. That is all. Space it out."

He nodded again, as he sprawled across the bed, limbs everywhere. "I know. Don't want to end up with none tonight. Helps me sleep when I take it right before bed. No dreams that way."

"Good. If you wake up and can't go back to sleep, you are now permitted to use the small lounge adjacent to your room," Silas said, pointing to an opening near the back of his room. "There are various games and things to keep you occupied and entertained. You have done very well."

He hummed, smiling. "I was good. He said I was his favorite. I'm going to make him so happy, he won't ever want anyone else..." Jita felt his eyes getting heavy.

"We are very proud of you, Jita. You have made Jacquil and I very happy. Sleep now, and rest."

Feeling warm with all the praise, Jita drifted off to sleep, content and happy.

***

Teyla slowly settled into her routine. She did chores around the house and ground as Milkia requested during the day and protected the girls at night from the men coming in to use their services.

It was not a hard life and the girls were treated well.

But it still did not mean she enjoyed it.

Each night she was chained to her bed and would be until Milkia felt she would not try to run away. Kellie tried to convince her to stop moping around the house, but it was easier to say those words than to do them.

She had lost her team and was alone. She was a slave without any rights or freedom.

No matter how kind they were she was still a prisoner.

Rising on the fifth day of her captivity after Gash released her ankle, she got ready quickly, heading downstairs to eat a late breakfast before beginning her chores. Kellie was already in the kitchen, puttering around.

"Oh! Teyla! I'm so glad I caught you." She sat down across the table, watching as Teyla began eating. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine. I am getting used to the bed."

"Mil will let you up eventually. Just keep doing a good job, and, like I said, try to stop moping. I do have some information that might help in that regard."

Teyla rolled her eyes as she sat down, wrapping her hands around the mug of tea Kellie had given her. "I am not moping."

"Yes, you are, but that's beside the point. I have news that will cheer you up. Well, it doesn't do much for you now, but it might give you some hope. I know you aren't exactly happy with your new position, and I know its not us--" Kellie had a tendency to ramble on and lose track of the point if you weren't careful, Teyla had noticed.

"Kellie, please. Anney's admirer did not leave until the early hours of the morning."

"Sorry. Anyway, I was in the market this morning getting supplies with Cook, and there were some funny people there. They had dress like I've never seen before, and they were asking about a missing team. One of the people they described sounded a lot like you."

Teyla felt her heart nearly stop beating in her chest. "Kellie, you must take me there. You must take me to them."

She shook her head. "I can't, I'm sorry. You aren't allowed to leave the house yet. And... I was going to try and talk to them, but Cook was in a hurry, and they were gone before I could catch them. But I wanted you to know, I believe you. And I'll keep an eye out. If they come again to the market, I'll find a way to speak with them, invite them to drop by."

"Please, you must find them," Teyla said, gripping Kellie's arm. "I do not belong here and I am worried about my friends."

She patted Teyla's arm. "I know you are. But the best thing you can do is a good job for Mil. I know it sounds counterproductive, but if I can find them, get them to come here, Mil will be more likely to listen, and to sell you back to them for a decent price, if he isn't grumpy."

"But it isn't safe for the team to even be here on this planet. What happened to me can happen to them and we'll lose more people. I must—"

"Shhh. Teyla. The slavers are only here a few days out of every month. You were just very, very unlucky that you came when you did."

"That does not make me feel much better. Please, Kellie. I must see them, speak to them."

She shook her head. "They aren't here anymore. And if they were, we could both get in big trouble if I were to help you leave the house without Mil's permission. I want to help you, but please don't ask me to risk my own position. They will return I'm sure, if they miss you as much as you do them. And I will catch them, talk to them."

Teyla sighed, sinking back into her chair, suddenly no longer hungry, a weariness flowing over her.

Kellie patted her arm. "Look at it this way. Your situation hasn't changed at all. But now you know your people are looking for you, and you know that I'll do what I can to get them to come here, to talk to you and convince Mil to sell you. There is hope, Teyla. I like you, and I wish you would be happy here with us, but you aren't. You have another life you can't let go of."

"And I am trapped here until circumstances change. I am a woman of action, Kellie."

"So channel that action into helping us. I've been watching you, and we already know you won't be with us forever. What do you think about teaching me and some of the other girls some basic self-defense? Not only is it good exercise for us, it will make sure we aren't just sitting around screaming uselessly when someone tries something."

"Would Milkia permit it"?

"Sure. Oh, he won't let us learn weapons or anything. But a little bit of self-defense means he doesn't have to worry about customers getting fresh without paying for the privilege."

"If you are certain…"

"I'll ask him to make sure, but it will give all of us something useful to do during the day. I had talked about it with our last protector, but we didn't have a chance to do anything about it before she left."

It would certainly give them something to do and would help to keep her training up. If Milkia said yes, she would have no problem training the girls. "Were you still planning on making breakfast?" Teyla finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kellie laughed. "See, you're perking up already."

"No, I am hungry but you insist on talking my ear off."

Kellie pushed Teyla's plate closer to her. "Eat then. I'm going to talk to Mil now, and with a little luck, we can get started this afternoon."

Teyla nodded, offering a smile as she picked up her fork. "Thank you." She dug into her food finding that she had at least a glimmer of hope of rescue.

***

Ronon had spent the night, and all of the next day, in the tiny room. He had had no choice but to find the corner and relieve himself, and by the time he was let out, he was dehydrated and starving.

When the doors opened, it was only knowing that they would just lock him back in there kept him from lunging at the nearest throat. Well, that and knowing he needed to get his strength back up again before he killed these men and left.

"Well, well, not so impressive now, are you?" the guard asked, his nose wrinkling at the smell from the small room.

Taking a page out of the Lantean's book, Ronon decided saying nothing was probably the best course of action.

Another one moved closer, looking him over. "We won't be able to salvage the clothes."

"I'll wash them." He didn't have any weapons concealed in them at the moment—the slavers had taken the obvious ones, and when he had seen his team being stripped he had hidden the rest in his hair—but he still didn't want to lose his clothes.

"He needs a bath now though," he first guard said, eyeing Ronon carefully.

"Point me in the right direction. I'll wash."

"Nope."

The second guard brought his hands around in front of him, holding two buckets.

With a resigned sigh, Ronon braced himself for the shock of cold water hitting him. At least it washed away the sweat and dirt.

The guard unchained him from the wall, but left his arms bound behind his back as they brought him to the slave barracks. "Clean yourself up and then report to the field. You're behind in your work."

He grunted, but for now, did as he was told. He actually wasn't against being led around. It was giving him a chance to case the place, find its weak points.

Finally unlocking his hands, they watched as he undressed and cleaned himself off as best he could. He put on some of the slave clothes, needing his other garments to dry.

Carefully folding his own gear, Ronon hesitated, then balled it up, using a stray piece of twine to bind it together, tying it around his waist.

"What do you think you're doing? Leave it here."

"It'll dry faster this way. Out in the sun."

"Leave it here."

Ronon had learned a few things about picking battles. He had a feeling he wasn't going to see anything he left behind again, so he pulled out the few pieces he would really prefer not to lose, pulling them on over the slave clothes, stowing the rest high in a corner.

The guard finally nodded, pointing to the field. "Work. If you do well enough today you can eat."

Grunting, Ronon knew he needed food. He had gone without all day yesterday and last night, with only a small bowl of gruel before that. He worked hard enough that day that the overseers only hassled him briefly after the bell. He was in time to get a large bowl of food, eating it quickly before going to see if his gear was still there—it wasn't—and then finding a quiet corner to sleep.

The next day wasn’t much different, except Ronon kept his eyes and ears open. After the evening meal, while the guards were still getting their own supper, seemed to be his best bet for escape. So, three days after his solitary confinement, Ronon went through the routine, ate his dinner, and then went back to his corner. It was dark, and easy to quietly slip out the back door, slitting the throat of the guard posted there with one of his hidden knives. He had made it to the edge of the field—killing two more—before someone found a body and raised the alarm.

Guards swarmed the fields—far more than he thought were on hand—cutting off his escape route even before he could get very far. The whip on his hip would not help much and the gun he had only had one round. It helped him get past several guards,  using it as a blunt object once the bullet was spent. His knife helped dispatch more. Some of the guards, through, were better than he thought. One of their bullets hit him in the arm, the other grazed his temple before he was able to take them out.

He led them on a merry chase, doubling back, and leading them in one direction before quietly slipping back towards the gate. It took him most of the night, and he was tired, hungry, and in pain, but eventually the ring of the ancestors came into sight. Moving quickly, not liking being so open, he dialed the Atlantis Alpha site—the slavers had taken the identification device. As he was getting ready to step through, he heard shouting and saw the guards who had figured out what he did come charging through the forest. With a rude gesture he had learned from the Marines, Ronon stepped through the gate.

Several Lanteans were standing there, guns armed and ready, and they looked stunned to see him. “People chasing me. If they come through after me, feel free to kill them.”

One of the Sergeants nodded, gesturing to the rest of the company standing guard. The gate snapped off before anyone else came through though.

"Mister Dex?" One of the Sergeants approached him slowly. "We need to get you to Atlantis."

"Yes. Now. I need a team to go rescue Sheppard and the others."

"You know where they are?" Another man was dialing the gate, entering his code when the wormhole established.

"No. We were captured and sold by slavers. All four of us went to different buyers."

The man at the DHD turned to him, his hand on his earpiece. "Doctor Weir is waiting for you, Mister Dex."

Ronon grunted and stepped through the gate. He was a little surprised to actually feel like he was coming home.

"Ronon!" Weir was rushing down the steps, her expression tight, pained. "What happened? We sent Lorne's team when you were overdue but no one could find you."

"Captured and sold by slavers. I went to a work gang and escaped. Last I saw of the others, Teyla had been sold, Sheppard was up for auction, and McKay looked shell-shocked. I need to find them." It was probably the most he had ever said at one time to her.

Her eyes widened just as Beckett and a medical team ran into the gateroom.

He continued to give her information as Beckett zeroed in on his arm and forehead, knowing she would brief Lorne. As Sheppard's second, Ronon trusted him to help find his missing team. "I couldn't tell much about who Teyla was sold to, but she didn't look too abused. Sheppard was sold as a pleasure slave. The guards were threatening McKay to force him to submit. Saw them hold a knife to McKay's throat when Sheppard tried to fight."

"Do you know where they might be?"

"No. Need to go back. Slavers migrate from world to world, but there's probably an established market there. Someone might have seen something. Sheppard was pretty much the focus of most of the people there. Bidding was high. Someone will remember him."

"Right now you're going to the infirmary so I can fix your arm," Beckett said firmly.

"Need to get a team, weapons, and go find them. No telling what situations they're in."

"No, Carson's right. You need to get checked out before you go anywhere. I've already alerted Major Lorne's team. I'll brief him before I send him down to talk to you."

He debated for a moment, then finally nodded. He knew Sheppard would be ordering him to do it that way if he was here. "Fine."

"Come on, lad. Let's get you fixed up," Beckett said, gesturing for Ronon to follow him. "I think a shower is also on the agenda."

He wrinkled his nose. Living here was making him soft. "Definitely."

Major Lorne was waiting for him when he came out of the shower. Ronon sat on the bed Beckett indicated as the doctor worked on his arm.

"We were on the planet twice and we couldn't find you anywhere," Lorne said with a frown.

"We were sold, scattered. I was about three hours from the gate, working in a field until I got tired of it, killed the guards and came back. Sheppard was auctioned off, and from what they were doing on stage, and the price—no telling where he was taken, but it won't be close to the gate. Don't know about Teyla and McKay. Need to ask around."

"How did it happen?"

"Ambushed. Slavers appeared out of nowhere, and there were too many to fight."

"You've been separated since you left Atlantis?"

"Pretty much. I kept track of all of them somewhat while we were in the market. But after we were all sold, there was no way to follow them."

Lorne was quiet for a moment. "There was no sign of this market when we went to the planet. Is this something we need to worry about?"

"Most slave markets rotate from world to world, that I've seen. We were unlucky, but probably a good idea to take a jumper instead of walking."

The Major nodded as Beckett continued to work, cleaning the wounds. "Do you think the people will be willing to talk about the slaver market, about where the slaves go once they're sold?"

"Don't know. Some, probably. Depends on how we ask, and why they think we're asking. Slaves go all over the place, most of them probably own a few themselves. Problem will be finding who the others were sold to."

"We'll find them." Lorne's voice was tight, determined.

"Yes." Ronon didn't consider any other option. He paused for a moment. "Want my gun back, too. Probably on sale at the market, along with the rest of our gear."

"Then the market is out first stop," Lorne said with a nod.

"How soon?" Ronon grunted as the Doc found his whip marks, cutting across his back.

"You will be with me for some time yet, laddie," Beckett said.

"No." It was just a few cuts. Finding the others was more important. "Had worse."

"It doesn't matter," Beckett said. "You are not leaving until I say you can. I have no problem with you briefing Major Lorne, but you will stay here. No arguments."

Ronon narrowed his eyes, trying to intimidate Beckett into seeing things his way. He liked the doctor though, and wouldn't actually hurt him. It made it harder.

"And don't be thinking that face will make me change my mind."

He glared for another minute on principle, then grunted. "Hurry then."

"I'll be finished when I’m finished," Beckett said, continuing to work, his pace never altering. Lorne was hiding a half smile behind his hand as he watched.

"What kind of currency are they using? We'll need something if we're going to buy back anything."

"Call it rue. Looks pretty much like the standard gold coins on other worlds." Ronon was a bit disgruntled that these people weren't afraid of him. Yeah, he was starting to think of this as home, but the concept that they considered him as belonging too was just...odd.

Lorne nodded. "I'll check the stores to see what we have on hand. My team has been back to the planet twice already looking for you, so we have a good general idea of how the village and market are set up. I'll need you to go over the topographical maps to get an idea of where you were being held."

"Bring them here. Can do it now."

"They're spread out in the conference room," Lorne said, shaking his head. "Once Beckett gives you the all clear, come on up and we can go over them. It's the middle of the night on the planet in any case. No one will be around to talk to. We need to wait until morning."

Growling, Ronon knew Lorne was right. But that didn't make him any happier about the delay.

"What else can you tell me about these people?"

"Slaves are a part of their culture. Encountered those societies a few times running. Usually they pull from specific worlds—what happened to us is illegal."

"Will we be able to use their laws to fight it?"

"If you can prove it. Convince them. People who paid money probably won't give them up easily though."

"We'll convince them otherwise," Lorne said, his expression hardening.

Ronon nodded. "Pictures. I've seen them. That would probably work."

Lorne nodded. "We'll bring some. It'll help to find the rest of the team, too."

It was  hours later—Beckett actually had the nerve to slip him something that made him sleep—when Ronon stalked into the briefing room, ready to go. Lorne, Weir, Beckett, and the rest of Lorne's team were all waiting for him.

"How are you feeling, Ronon?" Weir asked as she caught his eye.

"Ready." He looked over the map, and pointed to one spot. "That's where the slave market was."

Lorne nodded, looking over the area. "There wasn't much there except empty buildings when we were there. The village market area is here," he said, pointing to a spot not far away. "Where did they capture you and where were you held?"

He pointed out all the points of reference, where the gate was, where he had been held, the direction he had seen Teyla walking last he had seen her.

"Did you hear any names while you were there? Anything or anyone we can reference?"

"Slaver's name was Hadrious."

Lorne nodded. "Anything else?"

"Was too busy trying to see who bought the others so I'd be able to pick them out later."

"Okay," Lorne said after a moment, letting out a sigh. "Beckett and Ronon, you're with me. Our objective is to find the rest of Sheppard's team or at the very least get some intel on their location."

Ronon nodded. He was more than ready.

Weir glanced at each of them before finally nodding. "Find them and bring them home. I want regular radio contact."

They all nodded. They were in a jumper, headed to the market minutes later. Lorne put them down about a klick outside, cloaking it before they moved out. Ronon was stalking around the edges of the group, all his senses on high alert. Beckett and Lorne followed close behind. Lorne had the rest of the team wait in the jumper.

The market was busy, even this early in the morning, filled with people buying and selling the various fresh fruits and vegetables they needed for the day. Butchers were hard at work providing cuts of meat while the bakeries were making loaf after loaf of bread.

Moving to another section of the market, Ronon spotted several blacksmiths hard at work, while other storefronts that dealt in miscellaneous products—guns, knives, clothing, and jewelry. They were just opening for the day.

With Lorne and Beckett, Ronon began to browse the last—smiling wolfishly when he spotted his own gun.

"Find something that caught your eye?" The shopkeeper offered a smile as they entered.

He pointed to his weapon. "How much?"

"Fifty rue."

"Try again." Ronon knew his gun was worth probably about twenty-five to thirty of their money. "I'll give you fifteen."

"Hang on there, buddy," Lorne said, moving past him, pointing to several other items. "I want these and the gun for fifty." The Major had spotted McKay's tablet PC, the LSD scanner, and Sheppard's knife.

Ronon shrugged, stepping back to let the soldier haggle. A few minutes later, and he had his gun buckled back on. He patted it fondly. He liked this gun.

"Do you know where I can find other stuff like this?" Lorne asked as Beckett loaded the items in his pack.

The vendor, who was quite happy with his profit, pointed at another booth a few tents down. "I believe Hakkal has some similar items."

Lorne inclined his head. "Thank you. It was a pleasure." They headed out the door and moved immediately to the next stand, Ronon spotting several items.

Beckett, though, had paused by another store, ducking inside and asking to see something he'd spotted in the window.

They all paused, unwilling to be separated. After a moment, the team moved closer at Beckett's insistent waving. Lorne cocked an eyebrow. "See something you want, Doc?"

The Doctor nodded, holding up a set of dog tags with a ring attached. "Aye. What do you think?"

Ronon heard Lorne suck in a small breath, but his expression didn't waver to betraying his interest to the seller. "I don't know. What would we do with it?"

"I thought John might like it. He collects the oddest things," Beckett said after a minute.

Lorne gave a deceptively lazy shrug, glancing over at the vendor. "How much?"

"Don't you want something prettier for your lady friends?"

"If I did, I would have picked it up in the first place. How much for the necklace?" Lorne glanced over at some of the other vendors. Ronon had to hand it to the man, he was pretty good at this, giving the impression that the sale was about to walk away.

"Five."

"Two."

"Three."

"Deal." Lorne paid, and took the tags from Beckett. As soon as they were away from the vendor, he glanced down at them, running his thumb over Sheppard's name. "He must have gone crazy when they took these from him."

"Aye," Beckett said, looking pained. "For the ring especially."

Lorne nodded, closing his fist around them, looking up at Beckett. "I'll look forward to giving them back. Did McKay wear his off-world? I never see him with a ring, and I know he doesn't wear tags. Do we need to be on the lookout for something?"

Beckett shot Lorne an odd look. "Why would you be asking that?"

Lorne just shot the doctor a crooked smile. "Can't tell. But that doesn't mean I can't be on the lookout for more missing jewelry."

It took a moment for the doctor to respond. "No. He doesn't wear it on base either. Too many questions. We may need to look for his necklace."

Lorne nodded as he pocketed Sheppard's tags. "Will do. Holler if you see anything else."

Ronon narrowed his eyes. Necklace? McKay wore a collar not a necklace.

Lorne caught his eye, giving him a slight headshake. Ronon made a note to corner the man later. Every now and then the Lanteans had some weird ideas. "Was still wearing it last time I saw him."

That made both men's eyebrows rise. "Really?" asked Beckett, the reply a little high pitched. He cleared his throat before he continued. "He still had it on?"

Ronon shrugged. "Looked like the same one. Only with a lock."

Beckett's expression tightened and he glanced away. "No…it was probably the same one then."

He shrugged again. If Sheppard wanted to put a collar on McKay, and McKay let him, he didn't think it was anyone else's business. Lorne seemed to agree, clearing his throat. "All right, let's get back on track. Everyone keep your eyes and ears open."

The walked through the market for a few more hours, finding bits and pieces of gear. Some they left. It didn't really matter if the natives had a canteen or an MRE. As they rounded one of the corners leading to the food market, a woman—a slave—approached Lorne.

She moved way into his personal space, batting her lashes. "Well, hello there, stranger. Aren't you a nice-looking boy?"

Lorne flushed a little, stepping back. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

She smirked a little, her eyes dancing with amusement and life. "I'm Kellie. What's your name?"

"Evan. This is Ronon and Carson. We're really not looking for anything you're selling."

She just laughed, hooking an arm through Lorne's, starting to pull him down the street. "But you don't know what I'm selling yet, Evan, so how do you know you don't want it?"

"I know your type, ma'am. I've been around the block," he said, trying to pull his arm free as politely as possible.

She smiled warmly. "I just bet you have. And it really is a shame... I bet you're fantastic." Her stare turned a little frank, and more than a little naughty for a moment. "But really, what will it hurt you to take a walk with me? I promise, I don't bite. Unless of course you want to pay me to do it."

"I don't think I can afford you and besides, I can't exactly leave my friends in the street," he said as they continued walking, heading to a more residential section.

"They can come, too. And for you, handsome, I'd give a discount if I thought it would work."

"I'm taken and cheating is not something I want to do."

She sighed, the fingers still curled around his arm caressing, even as she continued to tug the solider forward, Carson and Ronon keeping pace. "The pretty ones always are. If you bring her by, I could teach her a few things for you. Free of charge."

Lorne flushed. "I'll keep that in mind."

She laughed again, reaching a small, gated yard. "Ah, here we are. If I'm not to your taste love, I know someone else who might be." She sashayed into the yard. "Teyla! I found some strays that could be a problem later. Thought I would bring them by so you can get a good look at them, keep an eye out later."

Lorne stilled immediately, his mouth hanging open until the door opened and Teyla appeared.

Kellie just laughed, patting his arm. "See, I told you you wanted what I had to sell." She looked over at Teyla, who had frozen, her eyes wide and bright. "I'll go distract Mil. Just don't get me in trouble, okay?"

Beckett had moved forward, enveloping Teyla in a hug before pulling back and holding her at arm's length. "Are ye well, lassie? We were worried about ye."

Ronon moved forward, encompassing both Teyla and Beckett in a hug. "Teyla." It came out gruff.

She smiled brightly, her eyes shining. "I am well. I have been treated kindly, although I missed you all greatly, and worried for your safety."

"Ronon walked in the front door last night," Beckett said. "Surprised us all."

She glanced at him, startled. "You have a story to tell, and I can not wait to hear it. But first... you must speak with Milkia, the owner of this place. I am hopeful that he will be willing to negotiate with you to purchase me."

"Purchase…" Beckett began, only to be cut off by Lorne.

"Let's speak with him."

She nodded, leading the men inside as she continued to talk. "Mil is not a bad man, and he treats his people well, including me. I do not wish to hurt him or the girls he purchased by simply running away."

"I’m going to have to talk to Sheppard about getting his team sold to slavers. We're going to run out of cash if he keeps it up," Lorne commented, obviously trying to lighten the mood, but the joke fell short.

Teyla, however, smiled at him just before knocking on a stout wooden door. She opened it, and Kellie was there, sitting on the desk, with an older gentleman scowling at her. "Mil? My people have come for me, and I wish to be sold to them."

"I haven't even broken you in yet and you want to be sold? Absolutely not. I will not be without protection for the next few weeks just because your imaginary friends have arrived."

Ronon moved into the room, scowling. "Who you calling imaginary, old man? She's ours."

He didn't back down, holding Ronon's glare. "And what do we have here? I remember you from the market, slave. Where are you manners?"

"Not a slave."

Lorne stepped in, shooting a look at Ronon. "Sorry, sir, please don't mind him. We had several of our people go missing last week on this planet—among them Teyla and Ronon here, along with two others. We're told they were captured by slavers when they stepped through the gate, and now we're trying to track them down and bring them home where they belong." He pulled out several pictures, with Teyla, Sheppard, and McKay in them, laying them on the desk. "As you can see, I'm not making anything up to try and cheat you. We just want our people back. We need Teyla at home."

"I do not purchase illegal merchandise. You must be mistaken."

"I'm not saying you did it intentionally, sir. If anything, I'd say the man who caught them is at fault. But it doesn't change the fact that Teyla is part of our team, and we need her. I'm willing to reimburse you for anything you paid out, because I don't want to cause problems. But we are taking her back. She doesn't belong here."

The old man glanced down at the pictures, picking up one of them to study it. He pointed to the image. "This one…his name is Rodney? He has a medical condition which requires he eat regularly." Milkia lifted his eyes, looking at Lorne.

Lorne looked surprised. "Yes. Rodney McKay. He's hypoglycemic, which requires him to eat regularly. He also has a deadly allergy to citrus products. You've seen him? You know where he is?"

"Hmm. Didn't mention any allergy."

Lorne's expression got intent. "Sir, do you know where he is? Both him and Sheppard," he pointed to John in the photo, "are still missing. Can you help us find them?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, dropping the photo back on his desk. "He was sold by the time I went back for the evening sale."

Lorne hung his head. Then looked up again sharply. "You tried to buy him, too? Do you know who he was sold to?"

"This one," he raised his hand, waving it toward Teyla, "insisted. Wouldn't stop going on about how he wasn't suited to this kind of life. After talking to him, I'd have to agree."

Lorne looked over at Teyla, offering her a small smile. "He's not. He's a scientist, on missions in the field because we need his expertise. But in an ideal world, someone would have to go through Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard before they got to McKay. And by then, with luck, he would already be running and through the gate to call for backup. That's how it's supposed to work..."

"Hadrious used him to keep another slave in line, but once that one was sold he really had no reason to hold onto…Rodney any longer." He leaned back in his chair. "And no, I do not know who purchased either. Hadrious would not tell me who out-bid me and by law, he does not have to. The other slave was expensive and as you can see, I do not require males in my business."

Lorne's eyes went wide. "To keep another... Sheppard? He was using McKay to force Sheppard to cooperate. Son of a bitch." His hands were clenched hard. "Fuck, all right, well, at least that gives us a bit more. Once we find our people, I think I'm going to have a long talk with this Hadrious person."

"Good luck with that," Milkia said. "It was nice speaking to you, but I need to get back to work."

"Ah, we aren't quite done yet. Teyla?"

"What about her?"

"Her name is Teyla Emmagan. She is a very skilled warrior, and a very honorable woman. She could have just walked out with us when we first arrived. You seem like a decent guy, and you've been a great help. But I won't be leaving without her."

"And I’m not selling her."

Lorne gestured at the photos. "I've already proven that she wasn't a slave. And I think my offer to reimburse you when it was my people who were kidnapped is more than fair. I won't make it again. I'll just walk out with her. I'd hate to do that—as I said you seem decent enough—but I will if I have to."

"You will not be walking anywhere with her," Milkia said. "Do not think I am an easy target because I am an old man. I have no wish to do business with you. I have my slave and that is all I require."

Lorne shook his head. "I'm not trying to target you, sir. I'm trying to bring my people home. We don't leave men—or women—behind."

"Unless you have another slave of equal value to give me, we have nothing to discuss." Milkia stood and three heavily armed men stepped into the room. "Please see these gentlemen out."

Ronon crossed his arms, digging in his heels. Beckett ducked behind Teyla, who had moved to stand with them, while Lorne kept trying to diffuse the situation—badly. "Sir, we aren't leaving without Teyla. I don't want to fight with you. How much did you pay for her? I will give you the value."

"I do not require the money. I require the use of her skills and her body. You cannot provide that."

"We require the same things. If you insist on keeping her, you are guilty of doing what you claim you are innocent of. You purchased her without knowing the full story, so it wasn't your fault. But if you continue to hold her here when you know she was made a slave illegally, you're no better than this Hadrious person."

"I purchased her legally and within my rights," Milkia shrugged. "I legally own her."

"Not true. Stolen goods, even when purchased with good intent, are still stolen and belong to the original owner, if ownership can be proved. We have done so, with photographic evidence and collaborating details we couldn't get any other way."

"Images such as these can be counterfeited."

"But if that were the case, how did we know about Rodney? If we didn't know Teyla, and him, how would we have known all the information?"

"It doesn't matter. I require another slave to replace the one you want. If you cannot provide one, then we do not have a deal."

"Mil." Kellie, who had been quiet until now, placed a hand on his arm. "Teyla doesn't belong here with us, and you know it. Let her go with good will. She can even help us later, maybe train someone to take her place. But if you force the issue, we will lose her completely."

Milkia shrugged her off, shooting her a hard look. "I cannot afford to wait until the next slave market. You can have her after I have the replacement. No sooner."

"And having a protector whose heart is not in it does no one any good. The reason your establishment works so well is that everyone, even the slaves, knows they have some choice. That working hard will bring great rewards for all. Those of us who are free stay with you because we respect you for it. Don't become one of the hard men we all despise."

He turned to her and for a moment Lorne could see the steel core within this man. "Slave or no slave I do not take back-talk."

She shrugged. "Fine. There are other places I can sell my wares. If you have decided to become a tyrant in your old age, I will find another place. Unfortunately for you, most of your girls right now are also free. Be careful Mil, or when you open for business tonight, you won't have much to sell except a few frightened girls who have not been put on the floor yet."

"Go ahead. Go see Marcus or Ashira or Petronio. See if they'll take you in, support you like I have. This discussion is finished. Gash, see that Teyla is in her room until she is needed tonight."

Kellie narrowed her eyes, glancing over at Gash, who hesitated. "Gash, you and Favor come with me. I'll need help packing, and I'm sure some of the others will as well." After another hesitation, and a quick glance of apology at Milkia, the two men followed Kellie out the door. 

Ronon caught a small smile on Teyla's lips. "You have underestimated Kellie, Milkia. She is much beloved by everyone on your staff, and all will take orders from her if she chooses to use that authority."

"And they will have no means of support. They will not get jobs anywhere, forced to live on the streets. That is our society. No one will take them in after this. And if you kill me, hundreds of slaves will be forced onto the streets. This is just one of my businesses."

Teyla shook her head. "No one will harm you, Milkia. That is not why they came. They merely wish, as do I, to return me to my home and my place, where I am needed. I am the leader of my people, I cannot forsake them for this life. As for Kellie and the others, they will also be welcome in our home, if they so desire. Although I do not believe they wish to go. They are all quite happy here, and respect you greatly. They only do this because they feel they must."

Ronon heard a squawk and a thud somewhere upstairs and another guard appeared at the door. "Milkia, Gash and Kellie have been contained. A few others as well."

Milkia nodded. "Good. I will deal with them shortly."

Teyla sighed. "Why are you doing this? You are a good man, and you have good people who are willing to work for you. You offer a chance for hope to those who otherwise would not have it. It saddens me that you resort to this."

"I'm doing this to protect my business," he said, moving slowly around the desk. "And I am only asking for what is fair. A slave to replace you. If they cannot provide it, I will not part with what is my rightful possession."

Teyla gave him a sad look. "She loves you, in her own way. She would not have spoken up if she did not think it was in your best interests."

"Her knowledge is limited to this building, this business. I have many other interests of which she knows nothing about. Go with Andreas. You will be safe. You have my word."

"That does not negate her intentions. And she was right—if I am allowed to leave freely, I would be more than happy to train a replacement. That is far less risky, for you, than to simply purchase a slave and hope she has the proper skills. That is what Kellie was trying to get across. She was not trying to undermine you, merely see another side of the coin."

Ronon knew it was coming, but even when Milkia grabbed Teyla and dragged her back, he didn't react fast enough. He was getting soft.

"Whoa! Okay. Time out. Let's all take a deep breath here." Lorne's eyes were moving all around the room, his finger not far from the trigger of his P-90. "Look, we didn't come here to pick a fight. You keep saying you won't let Teyla go without a replacement. Would you accept a team of four soldiers in the short-term? Until we can come to some other satisfactory arrangement?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"I require one, not four. I have no issues supporting one person, but four is more than I wish to take on at this time."

"We won't be asking for you to support them. But I'm sure you can understand why we would be hesitant to leave one of our people alone here. We've already lost several, we have no desire to lose more. They'll have their own rations, and will sleep in tents outside in the yard, and will check in with our homeworld at regular intervals. We can negotiate a more permanent solution later."

"One will have to remain in the house. Preferably a female."

"We can work something out. I'm going to call our leader, Elizabeth Weir. She is the one who will negotiate a permanent solution with you."

"And they cannot interfere with my business. They are here to protect the girls from harm, nothing more."

"As long as you don't ask them to, ah, perform in any capacity except protection, I don't think that will be a problem. We're all trained in crowd control and bodyguard activities."

Milkia's face hardened. "That was never part of the arrangement."

Lorne blinked. "What wasn't? You need someone to keep an eye on the crowd, and make sure no one gets fresh, right? Or am I misunderstanding?"

"Teyla's responsibilities did not include any servicing. She was simply to make sure the girls remained safe."

Lorne relaxed a little. "Perfect. I'm not sure Weir would be very happy with me if I started trading Marines for sexual favors. Guard duty though, that I can do."

"Until you bring a replacement, Teyla will remain with me. Agreed?"

Lorne tapped the earpiece he was wearing, presumably contacting the rest of his team, who had remained in the jumper as back up. "Lorne to Parrish. I need you to convey some information to Doctor Weir, and have her send through—make it Cadman's team."

Ronon smirked. He knew the Marine, knew she was going to kick Lorne's ass later for the assignment.

After a moment of conveying what they had found and agreed to, Lorne signed off. "With any luck, we'll get word that our people are coming through the gate and will be here within the next half-hour."

"Good. Teyla and I will be going upstairs to deal with Kellie and Gash. Feel free to stay here or go into the main living room. Do not try to come upstairs."

"As long as no one gets hurt, that's fine. We'll wait here, and holler up when we have news." Lorne leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Fine." Milkia looked at the team again before ushering Teyla out the back door to his office. The guard, Andreas, stood in the door, watching them carefully.

Lorne looked over at Ronon, who had stiffened. "We aren't leaving here without her, I promise. Just let me try it this way, okay?"

"Elizabeth is not going to be happy," Beckett said after a minute.

"If you have any better ideas, Doc, I'd be glad to hear them. At least this buys us some time to think of something else. The situation was escalating, and that was the best I could come up with."

"Laura is going to kill you."

Lorne gave Carson a pained look. "She was the most badass woman I could think of. It's a compliment. I wasn't going to send someone to sleep alone in a brothel who I didn't think could fend off any unwanted advances."

"And let's not mention the dinner we have scheduled for later in the week."

Ronon was amused by the way Lorne's expression went white with fear. "Oh god, she's going to kill me. I swear, I meant it as a compliment!"

"Explain that to her when she gets here." Ronon could see the amusement in Beckett's face.

"He wanted a woman to stay inside by herself. Can you think of anyone less likely to be assaulted against their will than your girlfriend? She would blow the place up if anyone tried!"

"Technically the rest of the team is all of two minutes away."

"Yeah, but.... She was the first one I thought of, when I started mentally going through the roster of teams with women on them. She's scary-competent, so I picked her without thinking about it."

Their radios beeped, indicating an incoming transmission. Lorne picked it up immediately. "Lorne, here. Good. Ronon will meet you half-way. Lorne, out. Ronon, can you please see that Cadman's team makes it in?"

He nodded, turning to go out the door. Loping easily, he met them a little more than halfway to the gate. "Follow me."

"What's this all about?" Cadman asked once they were underway once again.

"Guy who bought Teyla won't let her leave without a replacement. You're filling in until we find a permanent solution." He couldn't wait to see the earful Lorne got for that. And people didn't think Ronon had a sense of humor.

Cadman stopped in her tracks. "I'm what?"

"Ask Lorne." He picked up the pace, forcing them to run to keep up with him.

Cadman stewed the rest of the way to the brothel, keeping up easily as her anger helped to fuel her pace. When they returned, Milkia was back downstairs with Gash and Kellie chatting quietly with Lorne and Beckett.

Ronon shot Lorne an amused glance before Cadman pushed past him. Lorne swallowed hard, taking a step back. "Ah, Laura, m...meet Milkia..."

Milkia smiled broadly, giving the Lieutenant a small bow. "Welcome, Laura and the rest of your…team. I’m looking forward to working with you."

Lorne was edging around to stand behind Beckett, Cadman taking a moment to smile sweetly at Milkia before turning a death glare back on the soldier. "I swear, it's a compliment! You're the most competent woman I know! Well, besides Teyla, but she wasn't really an option in this case!"

Cadman's eyes narrowed at Beckett who simply shrugged. "The Major did mean it as a compliment and it will help us to find Sheppard and McKay."

She spared one more glance at Lorne, who squeaked, much to Milkia and his guards' amusement, before turning to smile again, ramping up the charm. "It will be a pleasure to help out. Mister Dex was a bit...slim...on the details coming here, so why don't you tell me exactly what you need."

Milkia went through her list of responsibilities quickly, answering her questions easily. He referred two questions to Kellie, who answered as well, far more reserved than she had been before.

When Laura thanked him, Milkia raised an eyebrow at Lorne. "Are we agreed?"

He nodded. "I believe so, sir. As I mentioned, Laura and her team will be checking in with our world at regular intervals. Doctor Weir will make arrangements to come here directly to negotiate something more permanent that will be satisfactory for all of us."

"Kellie, please ask Teyla to join us."

The pretty girl nodded, moving silently. Ronon wondered what had been said to her, and hoped this man didn't crush the bubbling spirit they had seen earlier. Teyla had liked the girl, which meant Ronon liked her.

They stood around awkwardly until Teyla descended, still dressed in slave clothes.

"Teyla, your debt has been paid. You are free. Thank you for your services."

She nodded her head. "I am glad we could resolve this peacefully. I hope that we can find someone acceptable on a more permanent basis. I have grown to care for the women here, and, like you, I do not wish to see them harmed."

Milkia shrugged. "I will simply be forced to purchase another girl when the slavers come through again."

"We might be able to do better. We have contacts on many worlds that have been culled. There are many competent warriors who have been displaced, and are seeking a place to be useful once more. For no more than you provide a slave, one of them might be willing to settle here with you permanently. There are several candidates I have in mind already."

He bowed his head toward her. "I appreciate it, but it is not necessary. Thank you again for your services."

"We shall see." She smiled, then moved to embrace Kellie, and Ronon couldn't hear what the two women said to each other, but the other woman was left smiling.

Lorne gestured for Ronon and Teyla to move out first, offering Cadman and her team a brief look. "We'll leave the jumper cloaked just in case."

Cadman nodded. "We'll be fine, Major. Go find the rest of our people. I haven't nearly finished heckling McKay yet."

"We plan on it. And any intel you can get us will be helpful. We'll talk to you twice a day, if not more."

"We'll do what we can." She gave him a quick salute. Ronon, Teyla, Lorne and Beckett headed back to the gate on foot, leaving the jumper in place with his team for the moment, although he checked in with them as they walked. "Just, be careful, David. Don't leave the jumper, and I'll send a team with another jumper to relieve you in a bit."

Lorne had opened a general channel with the jumper so everyone could hear their conversation. "We're three minutes from you and I'm with two Marines. What's the problem?"

"I know you. No spotting a new plant and wandering out 'for just a quick minute while I get a sample'. You hear that, Evans? He doesn't leave the jumper, no matter how much he begs for soil samples."

"I’m not waiting for another jumper. We'll rendezvous with you at the gate. Parrish, out." The radio clicked off a second later.

"No! Fuck, David, why don't you ever listen to me?" Lorne had the same exasperated look Sheppard always got dealing with Rodney.

"Might want to hurry up," Ronon said after a minute.

"If he gets himself fucking captured, I'm going to kill him." Lorne picked up the pace, almost jogging.

"Counterproductive if you want to fuck him tonight."

Lorne froze, almost going face-first into the dirt. His face had gone white. "What?" He actually squeaked.

"You and Parrish, Sheppard and McKay. There's a few others, too."

Lorne swallowed hard, eyes darting to Teyla and Beckett. "Ah, you haven't, ah, mentioned your...observations...to anyone. Have you?"

"Thought it was a given." Ronon shrugged. "Don't care either way."

Lorne shook his head. "Look, ah, Sheppard and I... and anyone else you might have noticed in the American military—it's sort of against the rules. We could be kicked out. So just... don't say anything, okay? I like my job." He expanded the plea to Beckett, who looked stunned, and Teyla, who looked as amused as Ronon felt.

Ronon shrugged again. "Okay."

Ears a bit pink, Lorne nodded, starting to walk again. "I'll explain it to you later."

"Might want to talk to McKay about his collar then."

Lorne stumbled again, but this time kept walking. "Officially, it's a necklace." He seemed to sag a bit. "Okay, look, the US Military has a policy called Don't Ask, Don't Tell. Officially, relations with, ah, the ah, same sex, are forbidden, but they can't ask about it directly, and you don't have to tell them anything. So as long as no one catches you doing anything blatant, or someone turns you in, you keep your job. And wow, explaining DADT to an alien on an alien planet. My life just keeps getting weirder."

"You're doin' well, Major," Beckett said with a chuckle.

The tips of Lorne's ears turned pink again.

"You people are weird."

Lorne was saved from answering by their arrival at the gate, Parrish and two sheepish Marines standing there. "David, why don't you ever just listen to me?"

"The jumper's all locked up and will respond to Cadman's remote. Ready to dial home?"

Lorne rolled his eyes, but Ronon saw the soldier brush his fingertips across the botanist's back. He was fairly sure he was the only one who caught the gesture. A minute later, and they were back in Atlantis. One team member down, two more to go.

***

Rodney woke slowly, his eyes blinking several times before they focused on the gray concrete wall across the room…across his cell. Memories drifted in—slave market, sold, bought, lost, Kolya—oh god…

He tried not to panic. Panicking wouldn't get him anything—except maybe a heart-attack and he wasn't planning on that anytime soon.

But panicking was really the only thing he could do. And he was good at it.

He groaned, closing his eyes trying to block out his sad excuse for a life. His body hurt, his nipples especially where they'd been pierced. Knowing his luck they'd get infected from these horrible conditions and he'd die of some horrible, painful blood infection. While he wanted to take them out, that scared him more. At least the metal protected some of the hole.

His stomach rumbled and he sighed, pushing himself up until he was sitting on the bed, spotting a small tray of food on the table. He was hungry. He needed to keep his blood sugar up. But it was alien food. Necessity won out over common sense and he picked up a piece of fruit. He sniffed it before taking a small bite.

It seemed okay.

He ate one and waited. If he had any kind of allergic reaction he was dead and he'd rather wait until John could find him before he had any kind of major issue.

John.

Oh god…John was gone. Sold. He wasn't going to come for him this time. He was alone.

Before he could panic, something clanged by the door and Rodney turned, knowing his eyes were wide, as he stared, waiting for the door to open.

As the door slid open, Acastus Kolya filled the frame. "Ah, Doctor McKay. You're looking much better today. How is breakfast?"

Rodney slid back, tugging the blanket over his naked body. "This is all just some terrible mistake. Just send me home."

Leaning in the door, Kolya nodded at the tray. "Come now, Doctor McKay. I know you have to eat, and I'm sure I remember you claiming you were capable of feeding yourself. Unless of course you prefer me to do it for you."

Panic settled in his stomach, churning it over and over. He still had nightmares about that storm and about Kolya, about Kolya cutting him, wounding him. Having him here in the flesh… He shoved the panic and the memories down. He finally managed to choke out a reply. "And I suddenly find myself strangely not hungry anymore now that you're here."

Kolya's expression hardened slightly. "You will eat, Doctor. One way or another."

With arms crossed over his chest, he tilted his head up trying to be brave through his fear. "I’m not going to cooperate with you."

Moving slightly out of the doorway, two guards came in. Before Rodney could protest or get away, they had strapped him down to the bed. That done, Kolya sat beside him, picking up a piece of cheese. He forced Rodney to take it and then cut off his air until he swallowed. "You'll find it easier, in the long run, to choose your battles. This is not one you will win."

Panting and coughing, his eyes watering, Rodney tried to squirm away, but he couldn't. He had nowhere to go. Trapped. Scared. Alone. He shoved the panic down, but his fear was clear in his voice. "You're going to choke me like this. Is that what you want to do, huh? Make sure I get something lodged in my throat so I can't breathe?"

"We won't let that happen." He chose a piece of fruit next. "Have you decided to open your mouth and accept food, or are we continuing the hard way? You will eat everything on this tray before we are done."

"I’m still not going to help you," Rodney hissed through gritted teeth, tugging at the restraints holding him to the bed. Damn those slavers and their cuffs. It made it far too easy for Kolya's goons to tie him down.

This was wrong, bad, and wrong. John tied him down because he loved him. Kolya did it because he could.

Kolya just chuckled, and proceeded to follow through on his threat, forcing every piece of food down Rodney's throat until the tray was empty. "Now, while we've got you here anyway, we might as well take care of a few other things. These, for example, look a bit raw." Kolya flicked one of the nipple rings, pulling a yelp from Rodney. "My physician, while not as accomplished as the esteemed Doctor Beckett, will ensure you are healthy and uninjured."

Rodney moaned, trying to draw back, but unable. "Leave me alone! I don't want any of your voodoo practitioners touching me."

"Again, not an option for you, Doctor McKay." Kolya moved off the bed as another man entered the room, putting his case on the small table next to the bed. "See to it that he is treated for any injuries. Do not remove any of the embellishments on him. Those will remain for the foreseeable future, until I choose to take them off myself."

"Don't touch me," Rodney said, tugging even harder at the restraints as the doctor approached. "Nonononono. Stop. Get away."

The man ignored him, going over his entire body, treating various cuts, putting something on John's mark that would make it heal faster. A cream that stung a little was rubbed into his nipples.

And through it all, Rodney continued to fight and yell, nearly smacking the doctor in the head with his elbow when he bent down too close. By the time he stepped back, Rodney's throat was raw and he was trembling.

Through it all Kolya had remained in the cell, impassive, watching. As soon as the doctor was done, he moved back to the bed, placing a hand on Rodney's stomach, rubbing softly. "Come now, Rodney—can I call you Rodney, after all, Doctor McKay is such a mouthful—that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Trembling with fear, he shook his head, trying to hold back his panic. "Leave me alone. I'm not going to help you."

"Ah, that is where you are wrong. You will do what I tell you to, Rodney, eventually. In the meantime, I think I'll enjoy watching you fight. I underestimated you before. It will be most interesting to see how you react in a hopeless situation like yours. You will not be rescued. No one from Atlantis knows where you are, and your precious Sheppard has been sold as a slave himself."

"They'll find me and kill you," Rodney whispered, needing to believe. If he didn't…if he didn't he was really alone. Trapped. Alone with no hope…no he couldn't think about that. They'd find him. They had to.

His smile was almost kind. Almost. "No, they won't. You're going to spend the rest of your life in service to me, Rodney."

No. Nonono. I can't. I just can't. I want John and Atlantis. "You should just kill me now then, because I'm not going to help you. You should just save yourself the trouble and send me back to Atlantis."

Kolya picked up a needle the physician had left on the small table. "Give me time, Rodney. Before I'm through with you, you will be begging me to serve."

"Nononono," Rodney said, his eyes on the needle. Drugs? Poison? Oh god…"What are you doing?"

Instead of answering, Kolya injected the contents into Rodney's arm, rubbing the injection site after he withdrew the needle. "That is a very special drug developed by the Genii. To cloud your mind would defeat the purpose for which you were bought. But it will make you very…open…to orders. You will not disobey any orders given to you while under its influence, even if you want to. I've also been told that it can affect your memories for people and places…making you forget but keeping your clinical mind unaffected. When I am done, you will do as I wish and think about only what I tell you to. You will beg to serve me, please me and I will have you—all of you. I wish I knew how it worked so I could explain the process. But I assure you it does work, as I have seen the results."

"Nononononononono," Rodney said, his eyes wide as he tugged at the restraints. Drugs bad. Truth drugs like this…controlling him…oh god. "You can't do that." He could feel the fire of the drug as it passed into his blood stream.

Kolya watched him struggle for a moment, before issuing a single command. "Be still."

It took a moment, but Rodney felt his body responding even as he fought the drug, managing to move for far longer than Kolya obviously thought—if his surprised expression was any indication. Rodney panted as he tried to fight it. "No…no no no no."

"Ah, Rodney, your will is strong. That only makes breaking you so much more entertaining. Now, tell me what you know of who Sheppard was sold to. I would like to track him down and purchase him, if I can find him."

"I don't know anything," he hissed through gritted teeth. No. He wouldn't break. Wouldn't tell. Oh god…hurt. "And you can rot in hell before I tell you anything."

"What was your last view of him? You will tell me."

"No," he managed to say, moaning with the effort of keeping his mouth shut. The urge to say something was so strong. So strong. It would be so easy to answer. Such a small thing. But no. He didn't want to give Kolya anything. Especially John. John was his…if he was still alive.

"Tell me."

"Nooooo," he groaned, closing his eyes, concentrating on not speaking. Brain the size of a planet. He could do this.

A thumb rubbed along his jaw. "Tell me."

The single touch—skin against skin—immediately broke his concentration. "Stage. On stage," he said before clinking his teeth together hard.

Kolya's voice was calm, soothing, oily. "What was he doing on the stage?"

Rodney was chanting "nononono" in his head, trying to block out Kolya's questions. If he didn't hear them he couldn't answer them.

The thumb continued to caress, while a flick to his nipple suddenly made him yelp. "Tell me what you saw, what Sheppard was doing, what was being done to him, how he reacted. Tell me."

"Was being sold," Rodney said, the words forcing themselves out of his mouth. "Pushing him off the stage. He was fighting."

Kolya's breath was hot against Rodney's ear, sending panic and arousal through his body. "What was he being sold for?"

"Slave…some kind of slave."

"You can do better than that, Rodney. I was told they were using you to control Sheppard. That means they had to have brought you where he could see you, and where you could see him. What did you see?"

The words came out in a rush, erupting from his mouth, from his memories. "I was in the crowd with a knife to my throat. Sheppard was across the square on a stage. He fought them. He was gagged, bound. He was sold and then they were pushing him into the crowd and that's the last I saw of him."

"Very good. You are very obedient, Rodney. And before that? Between when you were captured and the last you saw of Sheppard? What did you see then?"

Rodney could feel the moisture leaking from his eyes as he squeezed them tightly together. But he responded. Answered. "Always restrained, gagged. Naked. Made to come for a buyer. They complained he wasn't trained enough. He fought them as much as he could but they were stronger, always had the advantage."

Kolya hummed, still rubbing Rodney's jaw. "Very good. Sheppard is a very pretty man, isn't he? And wherever he is now, he's probably being taken, used, and passed around from person to person like a cheap whore."

Rodney didn't comment, trying to block out Kolya's voice. It wasn't a question. He didn't have to say anything.

Kolya just chuckled, his heat disappearing. "You will receive a new dose once every twelve hours to ensure it is never out of your system. In a moment, I'm going to take the restraints off. You will not fight and you will not move unless you are told to."

"Just let me go," Rodney whispered.

"You belong to me now, Rodney."

"No."

"Say it. Say 'I belong to you, sir.'"

No. Nonono. John. He belonged to John. Rodney whimpered, but the words came unbidden. "I belong to you, sir."

"Excellent." Kolya removed the cuffs, and Rodney found that, despite what he wanted, he couldn't even twitch. No no no no. This wasn't good. Not good. He felt his heart pounding even as he tried to calm down. Panicking bad, but very appropriate. "Now, come with me. Do not look left or right, only at me. We are going to the lab where you will be spending the bulk of your time from now on."

Rodney's eyes opened and he rose, his gaze fixed on Kolya—wherever he moved. The panic was there, just below the surface. "Just let me go. Please. Just let me go."

"No, Rodney. You are mine. Any time you think to ask for release, I want you to say 'I belong to Acastus Kolya' out loud. Every time."

"No, please…no," Rodney whimpered wanting only to go home. The phrase fell out of his mouth a beat later. "I belong to Acastus Kolya."

Kolya merely smiled, and started to walk. "Heel, Rodney."

Cursing Kolya in several different languages as he walked behind the other man, his gaze focused on the back of his head, he muttered the entire walk to the lab. "I belong to Acastus Kolya." Over and over and over again.

The panic began to drop away with every phrase and instead he got angrier—with himself, with Kolya, the Genii, the slavers, anyone really who was at fault for him being here. If he thought hard enough, he could probably go as far back as his parents, but that would open up a whole other set of issues.

When they arrived, Kolya was smirking openly. "Welcome to your new home away from home. Here, you will be improving the performance of our nuclear program. You're going to build me portable weapons, Rodney."

"No."

"Yes. You don't have a choice Rodney." He pointed at a stool. "Sit."

Rodney scowled as he marched over to the stool he'd indicated, sitting down, his muttered words falling from his mouth. "I belong to Acastus Kolya."

"There is a set of papers on the table. You will go through them, solve the equations, and make suggestions for improvements. You will not introduce errors. You will not make suggestions that will sabotage the project. You will do your best to make them as right as they can be."

"Fuck you," he muttered, then added "I belong to Acastus Kolya." Even he had to admit it made the comment lose some of its edge.

Kolya just laughed. "My guards will be watching you. You will do as you have been told, and then you will sit here and wait for me to return."

Rodney scowled at Kolya as if staring him down would have some sort of effect. It wouldn't and he knew that, but he hadn't told him not to scowl at him.

Kolya just smirked, before turning and walking out the door.

It took a few minutes before the orders Kolya gave him began to scratch at the back of his brain. He tried to ignore them, thinking about Atlantis and John and everything else to try and block it out but the impulse to obey was getting stronger and stronger by the second.

By the time about ten minutes had passed he had clenched his eyes together and was chanting "Not going to cooperate. I belong to Acastus Kolya" under his breath over and over again.

"Slave, you were given orders. Work." One of the guards, his voice harsh, broke into his thoughts.

Rodney whimpered as he lost his concentration, his eyes shooting open as he glared at the man. But it was enough. In his right hand there was a pen and his attention was turning to the pages on the table. No. Nonononono. Not cooperating. He managed to shove a few of them to the floor before he got a pain in his head, making him groan.

"Obey Commander Kolya."

He shook his head from side to side even as his eyes opened, beginning to scan the top page, immediately finding errors. With a shaking hand he scribbled the first correction, his handwriting barely legible before he managed to drop the pen.

"You will obey." The guard's voice was getting harder. "Stop delaying and work."

"No. Nononononono," he whimpered, panting, trying hard to hold back, even as he reached out to grab the pen again.

"You will follow the commander's orders, slave, and you will like it."

"No. I most definitely won't," he said, another set of corrections written on the page.

The guards left him alone after that, only harassing him when he slowed down or faltered.

By the time Kolya returned—however many hours later—he had only managed to get through three pages and was muttering "I belong to Acastus Kolya" over and over again, wanting desperately to be anywhere except here.

"Ah, Rodney, it is good to hear you so dedicated to serving me." The man had moved quietly, and his breath was hot against Rodney's ear.

McKay jumped, pen dropping to the tabletop. "Fuck you," he murmured, not caring as his head pounded in time with his heartbeat.

Kolya's hand slid down his naked body, to tease at the crack of his ass. "Don't move, don't fight. And if fucking is what it will take to convince you that you are mine..."

"Nonononono." The strangled protest was lost as Kolya chuckled in his ear.

"Later perhaps. Remember this, Rodney. If you do not obey, we'll try other methods until we find one that works."

"I’m not going to cooperate. I’m not going to help you willingly."

The finger slid further down. "Yes, you will. In time. How much did you complete for me today?"

Rodney whimpered wanting to shift away, but not able to because of Kolya's order. "You have eyes. Look for yourself."

"Tell me."

He groaned and answered. "Three pages."

Kolya clucked. "You're going to have to be faster tomorrow, Rodney. We'll work on that. For now, you're going back to your cell, and you will eat every bite of food that is waiting for you. Then you will sleep, and we will do this again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, until you learn your place." The sting of a needle made him cringe, as more of the drug was administered.

He whimpered, shaking his head as he felt the drug enter his system, burning a path as it traveled. "Not going to cooperate."

"What do you say when thoughts of rebellion lurk in that little head of yours, Rodney?"

"Screw you."

"Now now. 'I belong to Acastus Kolya.' Why don't we expand that to all thoughts of rebellion or anger, hmmm? I want to hear you chanting it in your sleep, when you dream of freedom."

"No…please no."

"Say it, Rodney."

The words were dragged out of him with a moan. "I belong to Acastus Kolya."

"Very good." Kolya patted his ass. "Come with me. Let's get you settled for the night."

All down the hall he muttered "I belong to Acastus Kolya" under his breath, whimpers accompanying each and every utterance. He was cold, tired, hungry, horribly miserable, embarrassed at walking around naked, and mortified on more levels than he could even consider. He just wanted to go home to John and hide under the covers for days.

When they arrived back at his cell, Kolya flicked one of the nipple rings. "Don't even think of removing these. I rather like them on you. Now eat."

Rodney glared at him, putting as much vengeance and anger into his words. "I belong to Acastus Kolya."

"Yes, you do. I'm very glad you're beginning to understand that." Kolya smirked at him.

This time Rodney managed to hold his tongue, but not by much as he stood in the middle of the room glaring.

Kolya gestured at the tray of food. "Eat."

Rodney reluctantly moved to the table and chair. "Not hungry."

"Did I ask that? Eat, or do you need to be tied down and fed again?"

"You liked that didn't you?" Rodney said, picking up a single grape and popping it in his mouth, chewing as he glared at the other man.

"The question is whether you liked it. Did you strain against your bindings, Rodney?" Kolya gestured at Rodney's cock, firmly encased in metal.

"Like I had a choice."

One eyebrow went up. "So you did try to get hard, just from that? Hmmm, interesting."

Another glare, another piece of fruit, another muttered phrase.

Kolya waited until every bite was gone. "Sleep well, Rodney. Tomorrow will be exactly the same as today, and every other day of the rest of your life."

"As if."

Kolya just chuckled as he left, the door clanging behind him.

"Hey!" Rodney realized as the door locked, that he had to go to the bathroom. "How about a bathroom break?"

One of the guards outside the door snorted. "Use the corner, slave. The commander won't be back until tomorrow."

"I don't care when he's coming back. If you expect me to work I expect to be treated better!"

He got no answer, and even banging on the doors got him nowhere.

He glanced around the room, knowing there was a camera in there somewhere watching him. "Are you enjoying this? Are you enjoying watching the caged man? If you want any kind of cooperation on my part you'll get your ass back here and bring me to a bathroom."

After about ten minutes of yelling, the loud music from the first night suddenly flooded the room, drowning him out.

He banged on the door instead of yelling, knowing he was driving the guard outside crazy, but not caring. Sooner or later someone would let him out.

But they just let him bang, scream, for hours. No one came, no one spoke so much as a word to him.

Exhausted, he finally slid to the floor, his back against the door, holding his head in his hands. Two could play at this game, he finally thought to himself, getting up on his knees and facing the wall. He finally released his bladder, making sure the majority of it ran out of the cell door and into the hallway.

He shook himself off as best he could before stumbling to the bed, tugging the blanket up over his head.

After that, the music was intermittent, trailing off, only to blare again when he started to drift off to sleep.

By the time he heard the door clang open in the morning his head was pounding and he felt on edge.

Before he was even able to string two thoughts together, he was grabbed roughly and a needle stuck in his arm. The fire of the drug they were giving him burned through his veins. After that, Kolya sauntered in. "Good morning, Rodney. I heard you had a bit of a tantrum last night."

He refused to answer, curled up on the bed he stared at a small patch of uneven concrete on the floor. Maybe if he didn't answer, didn't respond it would all just go away.

"Sit up. You will not nap today. You will not let your eyes close for more than it takes to blink. If you wish to spend your nights that way that is up to you but I will still expect you to work during the day."

Rodney sat up, his mind more or less offline. A night like that would do that to him.

"Very good." Someone wheeled a tray in, with more of the small finger-foods he had been given since he arrived. "Now eat. You'll feel better after that."

Still staring at the wall, this time a small cross-section of light-grey concrete, Rodney ate—mechanically putting food in his mouth and swallowing until his fingers trailed across the empty plate.

He was pulled to his feet and led back to the same lab from yesterday, put on the same stool. The papers he had scattered were neatly stacked again, pen resting close. "Now work, Rodney. And you will complete more than yesterday. I will return for you this evening for dinner."

And he did work. Really.

The lack of sleep and his tantrum had managed to do what he'd tried to do yesterday—more or less blank his waking mind. He stared at the pages for hours, jotting notes when something popped through the exhaustion.

When Kolya returned he'd gotten through six pages, but had only made comments on two of them. The rest were just…beyond him right now.

Warm hands massaged his shoulders. "I know you are exhausted. Perhaps tonight you will sleep, instead of fighting me, hmm?" Another prick of a needle, and then he was being led first to a bathroom to relieve himself, and then to his cell.

Once Kolya sat him down at the small table, Rodney finally looked up through his heavily-lidded eyes. He needed to say the two words, but they were just so hard…so difficult. "Not cooperating."

Kolya caressed his jaw. "Have some dinner, and then you can sleep."

Rodney's eyes didn't quite flutter and he didn't quite lean into the touch. Really. "Not cooperating," he whispered, finally pulling back.

Kolya just chuckled, patting his cheek. "Dinner."

"No."

"Eat."

Rodney put a single piece of meat in his mouth, chewing carefully and swallowing. "Not cooperating."

"Everything on the tray."

This time Rodney tilted his head up and smirked through the pain of disobeying. "Not cooperating." It was getting easier to say the more he repeated it.

"We both know you're going to eat it, Rodney. One way or another."

McKay set his jaw, fighting the inclination to follow Kolya's order.

The commander cupped his face, thumb dragging along his stubble. "You are much more attractive clean-shaven. Tomorrow morning, we'll take care of that."

Rodney trembled at the sensation, at his touch.

"You like being touched, don't you, Rodney? You deny it, but you react every time." The thumb continued to caress. "You crave the contact. Is this a side effect of the drug or simply how you react? I will have to ask the doctors."

It wasn't a question he was ordered to answer. He didn't have to say a thing.

Kolya chuckled, taking his silence as an answer. His other hand traced the curve of Rodney's shoulder, drifting down to find a nipple, which he began to fondle.

Rodney's breath caught in his throat, moaning at the sensation, groaning as his very sore and painful nipples were played with, as the metal slid from side to side.

Kolya kept it up, teasing and touching, and it didn't take long before Rodney was whimpering because the chastity cage was getting painful. Why did he have to react that way? Kolya used a knee to spread Rodney's legs apart. "Do you want it to come off? What would you give me to feel the pleasure of release?"

"Nothing…not…not cooperating," he managed to pant out, feeling needy and desperate as he shook his head back and forth. No. He wasn't going to give in, wasn't going to cooperate. No. He couldn't do this to John. Wouldn't. He had to be strong. He had to be.

Kolya continued to play with him, fingers finding hot spots, sending shivers of arousal though his body. "I will not let you come tonight unless you ask, beg, offer yourself, Rodney. Another time, perhaps I won't wait. But tonight I want to hear you surrender."

"No," he said shaking his head, another gasping moan leaving his mouth. "No…not…not cooperating."

"You say one thing, but your body says another. You pant for me. You are arching into my touch, not away from it. You want release."

"I’m…I'm…a guy…comes…comes naturally." It took him a while, but he managed to pant out a reply.

"Panting in need for the touch of another man does not 'come naturally'. You are desperate and desperate for me."

"You only wish," he said, groaning as Kolya's hand tugged on a nipple ring sending tendrils of pain through him.

Kolya chuckled, and then pushed Rodney back, pushing him onto the bed, standing between his legs, holding them open. He picked up a piece of food, pushed it between Rodney's lips. "Eat."

Rodney took a bite chewing carefully before swallowing it down. "I ate."

"You will eat it all." He repeated the gesture, and the command. Rodney ate the other half of the food Kolya offered, chewing and swallowing because he had been told to, because he had no choice. "You pretend defiance, but not once during this have you thought of escaping, of being set free. If you had, you would have stated who you belong to. Think on that, Rodney." He abruptly backed away. "I will leave you with that thought. And you will not sleep until you have eaten. If you choose to spend another sleepless night that is up to you."

The door banged shut, leaving him alone once more.

Rodney glanced at the food, knowing he needed to eat; knowing some of his lightheadedness was from his low blood sugar. Vaguely he wondered what would happen if he decided not to eat. He'd probably pass out, and eventually drop into a coma.

Huh. That might not be a bad idea.

But then he'd have to deal with the voodoo doctors again. Although, they were checking him every morning as is. It was Kolya and the guards drugging him.

It would certainly ruin Kolya's day.

Might also emphasize his lack of cooperation.

In the back of his mind, though, he was worried. How could he even think like that? He was so good about eating, about keeping himself healthy—relatively. He'd wouldn't be the first to admit it, but he knew he sometimes forgot, but he always made sure to catch it before it got bad or out of control.

But now he was actually considering something so drastic, something that could effectively end his life if it wasn't caught in time.

Could he do that? That was the real question.

With a sigh, he laid down, staring at the ceiling. He was so tired. So very tired. And while he might not sleep, but he knew how to rest with his eyes open.

The music and the alarms never returned, but Rodney felt himself drifting and a little while later, sweat was forming on his brow. He was nauseous and starving, his body trembling. His head hurt and he kept loosing touch with his fingers and toes…it was kind of weird to float like that, distanced, disconnected.

The food was across the room but right now it was as if an ocean separated him from it.

The decision had been made for him it seemed.

He lost track of time somewhere in the middle of the night, the lights finally clicking off in his mind as he dropped into unconsciousness, a silent apology sent up to John.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes again was Kolya, his face an impassive, cold mask. Rodney shifted slightly, finding himself strapped down and an IV running to his arm.

"Nonononono," he whispered, closing his eyes again, shaking his head. No. Wasn't supposed to happen like this. John was supposed to miraculously come and save the day.

"Welcome back, Doctor McKay."

"Leave me alone," he mumbled, tugging at his bonds, turning his head away.

The hand that gripped his face was hard, probably leaving bruises along his jaw. "Open your eyes."

He obeyed immediately, any room he had to disobey or consider the order gone.

"While I admire your...spirit....this will not happen again. You will eat when you are told, or you will regret it. I have been soft on you until now, Doctor McKay. You do not want to make me angry with you."

No. He didn't. Really. But the panic and fear made him babble, made him stupid. "Drugging me more? The only way you can control me?"

Kolya trailed a hand over the scar Rodney still had on his arm from their last encounter. "Don't make the mistake of thinking drugs are my only option."

Rodney twitched, unable to hold back his body's reaction. Nightmares and memories flooding back. "You need me alive."

Kolya's smile was vicious. "Alive, yes. But fully-functioning? With all of your limbs intact? No. It is your mind I want, Doctor McKay. Your body is useful only as a vessel for it."

Rodney could feel his eyes widening as he tried to shake his head even as Kolya held him steady. "No. You wouldn't. You can't."

He pulled a knife from a sheath on his leg. Still holding Rodney's head steady so he couldn't look away, Kolya dragged the point from the hollow of Rodney's throat all the way down his chest, between his nipples, stopping at his belly button. The cut wasn't deep, but it left a bright red line.

He could feel his heart beating frantically, desperately, and fearfully.

"Do not make the mistake that because I have treated you with some indulgence thus far, I will not take what I want by force. The next time you pull such a stunt, you will wake up with missing fingers."

Rodney whimpered, his entire body tense as he held his breath, not wanting to move a millimeter and risk any other injury.

"My doctors have told me they need today to ensure your blood levels have evened off. You will not give them any trouble. Tomorrow we will begin your training in earnest."

"Please…" he started wanting to beg to be let go, but knowing what he'd have to say as soon as the fully formed thought crossed his mind.

Kolya just smiled, squeezing his jaw until it hurt before abruptly letting go. "You will obey me, Doctor McKay. If I have to break you first, I will."

Rodney shook his head back and forth, wanting to rub his face where Kolya had held him, but unable to do so much as shift on the bed. "No, please no."

"It is your choice. Continue to resist and you will be left nothing but a shell, capable of solving the problems I set before you and nothing more. Or cooperate, and you will remain in possession of all your limbs and sanity."

"I belong to Acastus Kolya," he muttered, holding the other man's gaze.

"Yes, Rodney. You do."

"I hate you," he said, the stupid fucking phrase tacked onto the end.

"You will learn otherwise in time."

Rodney turned his head away.

Kolya smeared a finger through the stripe of blood, then swiped it across Rodney's lips. "I will return for you later."

Rodney had the metallic taste of his own blood in his mouth all day, unable to wipe it away, unable to get away. Trapped. Helpless. He wanted John so badly he could taste it. Wanted the safety and the comfort his lover's arms offered.

The doctors checked on him regularly and he obeyed each and every command they gave him, unable to do anything less. In between their poking and prodding and checks he slept—fitfully and restlessly, never quite warm enough since they refused to give him a blanket to cover himself.

They forced him to eat several small meals throughout the day, in addition to the IV drip, so he was ready to be released back to his cell by that evening. Kolya, right on schedule, returned for him. The restraints were taken off, with orders to move only when and how he was told. "Heel, Rodney."

With a scowl at the other man, Rodney heeled, following just behind Kolya, surprised when the other man didn't lead him back to his cell as he'd been expecting. "Where are we going?"

"Did I tell you to speak?"

"You didn't tell me not to."

Kolya paused, taking the time to backhand Rodney casually across the mouth—a blow he couldn't avoid because he hadn't been told he could move away from it. "You are a slave. You will behave as one."

"I'm not a mind reader," Rodney muttered, his eyes watering slightly from the sudden pain from where his tooth had dug into the side of his mouth.

"Do you need another lesson?"

Rodney tilted his chin up a hair—the most he could do without an order. Kolya had to have increased the dosage of drugs if the urge to obey was so strong. "No. But you can't expect me to do something if you don't tell be about it in the first place. You can't just hit me or punish me because I did something when you specifically didn't say I couldn't do it."

Kolya's eyes glittered. "Actually, Rodney, I can. And I will. Learn fast what pleases me. Otherwise, you're going to be in quite a bit of pain." He backhanded Rodney again, and then began walking, a curt "heel" command tossed over his shoulder.

They walked for several minutes—Rodney seething behind him and muttering that damned phrase—before he finally had to ask again. "Where are you taking me?"

Kolya just glanced back, his expression dangerous.

Rodney fell silent, walking behind the other man until they reached another section of the base, a colder section, deeper underground with much smaller rooms. His stomach did a small flip at the thought of all of this concrete above his head, calculating what it would take to make it fall, how quickly he'd be crushed by its weight.

He was led to another cell, this one about half the size of the first, the bed a single slab of raised concrete. There was a bowl of something that looked like bad oatmeal and a glass of water on the floor. "You will eat that, and then you will spend the night here. This will be your home until you have learned some humility."

"I can't stay in here. It's inhumane. I'll freeze to death."

He was shoved inside, stumbling. "It is not up for debate."

Rodney turned to Kolya, knowing his eyes were wide, his face not hiding the panic he was starting to feel. "Please. I can't stay here. I’m sorry for whatever you think I did wrong, but you didn't give me a lot of choice. I'm a prisoner and I'm supposed to try to get away to escape. That's my job."

Kolya just stared at him. "You will have to do better than that, Doctor McKay. I suggest you spend the evening trying to find a better way to convince me you sincerely wish to obey me."

"Please….I…I can't stay here." He knew he was begging. He was on the edge of a panic attack and he didn't care what the other man thought. He couldn't stay here.

Kolya's expression didn't change. "What are you willing to do to be allowed back into your previous accommodations?"

That question gave him pause. He knew he couldn't compromise just for a blanket and a larger room, but he could feel the panic in the back of his mind, could feel how small the room was. "Please…don't leave me here."

Kolya just turned and started for the door.

Rodney lurched toward him, managing to lightly touch the other man's arm. "Please…please don't leave me here. What…what do you want?"

Kolya stared at him, impassive. "I asked you what you are willing to give. If you cannot, then you will not be allowed to leave this room."

"God, no, please…I can't stay here. Tell me what you want."

Kolya shook him off and took another few steps towards the door.

"You're trying to build your own nuke. You don't have any of the necessary materials but I'll help you. Please don't leave me here…please." Desperation tinted his voice and he hated himself, hated that he was so weak, pathetic. If John were here he'd kick him in the ass, make him be strong.

But he wasn't. Rodney was alone and he had to find a way to survive. He had to live so John could find him. But he was scared.

Kolya paused again, half-turning to face Rodney, who had followed him. He reached out, caressing Rodney's jaw. "You will give the information freely, without needing every word forced from your throat?"

Rodney paused for a minute, hating himself just a little more before he replied, knowing his answer even before Kolya completed the question. "For that…yes. But they have to listen to me about protocols and safeties."

Kolya gave him a satisfied smile. "Come with me then. And if you change your mind later, this cell will be waiting for you."

Wrapping his arms around his torso—the nipple rings twanging in pain from the contact—he followed Kolya back up the stairs, up several levels and down a few hallways until he finally recognized the area he was being led to.

The cell, in comparison to the one he had just been in, was downright luxurious, with an actual mattress on the cot, and a blanket, and real food sitting on a tray.

And it was warm.

Kolya sat him on the bed, picking up a piece of cheese and holding it to Rodney's lips, one eyebrow raised. He was being tested, he knew.

With a mental sigh, he opened his mouth, letting the other man feed him. He felt his skin flush red. He was doing it to protect himself. To keep himself alive long enough for his team to rescue him. He had no choice. He'd tried the other route and that had failed miserably.

Kolya gave him the rest of the food without comment, fingers brushing against Rodney's skin in caresses between bites. He knew it was all meant to break him, to make him submit, but he couldn't help imagining it was John, taking care of him, loving him.

He wanted it to be John, needed it to be. But the touch was wrong, just different enough to be jarring, to remind him exactly where he was, exactly who it was caressing his face, his body.

But he allowed it, knowing full well the price he'd paid for a little comfort and warmth. Knowing that he'd given Kolya a piece of his soul and also knowing that it wouldn't be the first. As much as he wanted to fight, he knew he was a coward, knew it wouldn't be long until he gave Kolya something else in order to avoid pain or discomfort.

He would submit. It would keep Kolya happy and him safe until John found him. It would protect him.

He had to believe it. He had nothing else to hold on to.

When the food was gone, Kolya gave him one last caress. "I will return for you in the morning. Be ready to fulfill your half of this little bargain when I arrive. Any hesitation tomorrow, and you will spend the night in the other cell."

"I understand," he whispered, eyes refusing to meet the other man's, his head bowed.

Kolya's chuckle was mean, malicious, as he left the room, the door banging shut once more.

Rodney held back a whimper. Curling up on the bed, he tugged the blanket around him, huddling within for warmth, falling asleep to dreams of John and Atlantis.

Kolya was prompt the next morning.

He simply arrived, his eyes sweeping over Rodney's body as breakfast was brought in, and the drug was administered.

Rodney didn't move, letting the doctor-guard-Genii mad scientist do what he had to, the burn in his veins lasting longer. Definitely a larger dose.

"Are you going to eat, or are we going to have the same tired, forced session we usually do?"

Rodney blinked once. Submit. Submit. Submit. The words were in his mind, reminding him of what he'd promised. "Whatever you want."

"Sit up, and eat then. Set the blanket aside."

Rodney did just so, moving to the small table and chair, eating whatever was on the plate, drinking the water, until empty dishes remained. Through it all, Rodney could feel Kolya's eyes watching him. He simply set his mind and complied. He was tired of fighting.

Submitting would keep Kolya happy and Rodney safe. He had to tell himself that. It was a protection.

"Very good, Rodney. If you continue to obey without needing to be compelled, you will find yourself rewarded, instead of punished. Now come with me. You have work to do."

He nodded, following the commander down the hall to the lab, sitting where indicated and waiting for the next order. He tried to ignore his conscience pinging at him, screaming how wrong this was.

Submission meant protection, meant safety.

Two Genii scientists came in, giving him looks of barely concealed hate and disdain. Only Kolya's presence kept them civil. "You will work with Doctor's Hattchete and Lang today, Rodney. You will give them all the information you have on nuclear weapons, where the problems in our research have been, and what we can do to fix them."

Kolya's hard gaze turned to the two scientists. "Doctor McKay belongs to me. If I hear of your…misuse…of him, you will find me most displeased. I alone reserve the right to train and discipline him. Do you understand?"

The men nodded, but it didn't stop them from sending hate-filled glances to him. Rodney turned to Kolya, hesitatingly raising his hand.

The commander smiled slightly. "Yes, Rodney?"

"Before I get myself into more trouble…how exactly do you want me to treat them? You know my opinion of your science program and I'm not exactly…polite when it comes to my own staff. They are years behind and if they won't listen to reason or my advice this will not get very far very quickly."

Kolya looked him over carefully, then expanded his scrutiny to include his own scientists. He snapped his fingers, and two of the guards that were always with Rodney stepped forward. "Doctor McKay will be in charge for the afternoon. Unless he is attempting to escape, I expect his orders to be obeyed. I brought him in because our own could not give me what they promised—and he can. Shoot anyone who objects."

"Yes, Commander Kolya," the head guard replied, his hand moving to rest on the butt of his gun.

Rodney looked back and forth between the guards and Kolya and the scientists before nodding once, hesitating a drop before asking another question. "Would asking for clothes or a heated room be too much?"

Kolya's mouth twitched. He nodded to another guard across the room, who returned a moment later with a pair of loose pants, and a lab coat like the two scientists were wearing. "You may don these while working. However, they will come off when you are not in the lab, Rodney."

"No socks? Shirt?"

"Don't push your luck."

He nodded, holding the garments to his chest. "I do get bathroom breaks, right?"

He nodded towards a small door in the back of the room. "There are facilities there. You may use them as needed while you are here. Now, I believe it is time for you to stop stalling, Doctor McKay."

"I'm not stalling. Trust me, when I'm stalling it'll be a lot more obvious. I don't do subtle well. I'm establishing my parameters. I have no intention of ending up in the dungeons."

"If there is a question, my men will call me. I will return for you this evening."

"Can't wait," he mumbled, already tugging on the pants.

Kolya merely smirked at him, then left.

It took a while for Rodney to wade through their idiotic theories and even longer to get the scientists to believe him in the first place. Lunch came and he ate it while berating them, trying to get them to understand about radiation and what it did to men's testicles. But they still didn't want to listen.

By the time Kolya returned he was about ready to bang his head against the wall.

"Ah, Doctor McKay. You sound like you're in top form."

"I’m surprised you haven't blown yourselves up yet. These two aren't even as smart as a turnip. Useless. Totally useless."

"You can tell me what will be required to improve the program over dinner. I'll even allow you to use silverware."

"A lab and scientists with half a brain will help."

Kolya led him to what he remembered vaguely as the commander's office. There was a table with two settings, and real food. Not the finger-food stuff he had been eating. "I will need a bit more detail than that, if I am to provide you with the necessary resources."

Rodney immediately sat down, reaching for the glass of water until Kolya stopped him, ordering him to freeze.

"I believe you are overdressed, Rodney. I will allow you to wear those clothes in the labs, because I want results, and it will be difficult for you to get them with such a disadvantage. However, when you are finished for the day, I expect you to strip. Leave the clothing here, and I will bring it back to you in the morning."

"What? But why? I get cold easily," he said, looking up at Kolya with wide eyes.

Kolya's eyes narrowed. "If you cannot obey, you will not get them at all, and you can do your research naked."

"The room is freezing! It's bad enough concentrating when my feet are cold. Are you miles underground or something? What is it about you and underground facilities?"

"Rodney. Strip. On your knees. Now."

He reacted immediately, clothes tugged off within seconds and then he was on his knees in the middle of the room, hands automatically sliding to rest in the small of his back.

"Do not forget, even when I allow you some freedoms, that you are a slave here. I own you, and you will not argue when I give you an order."

"What order? And order and a suggestion are two different things."

"No. If I give you a 'suggestion', it is merely a chance for you to obey before it becomes an order."

"Two different things," he muttered, eyes on Kolya's boots.

Kolya's fingers were harsh on his jaw, forcing him to look up. "Do you need a lesson in humility again?"

"I did what you wanted today without complaint."

"Which is why you aren't being marched to the lower level cell as we speak. But that taste of authority seems to have made you forget who you belong to."

"I did as you asked," Rodney said quietly, knowing he'd managed to walk right into a load of trouble—again.

Kolya's eyes gleamed. "And then you challenged me. Dinner is getting cold. So tell me, Rodney, what are you willing to do to show you have not forgotten your place?"

"What…what do you mean?"

Kolya merely smiled at him. "You disobeyed. You can wait for my punishment, or you can offer something to atone. It is up to you."

"But I didn't do anything wrong."

"You argued with me when I gave you an order. That is wrong, Rodney."

"But it wasn't an order," he whined, trying to get him to understand.

Kolya casually backhanded him. "Are you still trying to argue with me?"

"Ow…" he said, whimpering a little. "No. Not trying to argue."

"Are you sorry for not obeying immediately?"

"But I didn't…" he started, breaking off. "Yes. Yes, I’m sorry."

"Very good, Rodney." Kolya's fingers returned to his jaw, more gentle this time. "Clothes obviously give you a false sense of importance. I'm not sure you should be allowed to wear them further. Do you have any arguments as to why I should? Is there anything you are willing to give up, to give me, for the privilege of clothing?"

"Information. I will give information to your two bumbling idiotic scientists who will need more than one day of my wisdom if you have any hope in getting a nuke built."

"I will get that, whether you are clothed or not."

"Maybe."

"Are you making threats, Rodney?"

"No."

"Then why did you say that?"

"Because you'll get far more out of me if you're not dragging every piece of data from my mind."

"And that, pet, is a threat." Kolya's voice and eyes had hardened.

Rodney let his mouth settle into a thin line. Arguing was not going to get him anywhere and Kolya obviously didn't want to hear his thoughts about the treatment of prisoners.

"Ah, Rodney. You take two steps back for every one you take forward. You are going to leave me no choice but to damage you permanently if you cannot stop this behavior."

"Please, don't do that."

"You are not leaving me much choice." Kolya was caressing his knife with one hand, and Rodney with the other.

Rodney felt his breath catch in his throat, a whimper escaping. "No, please. I cooperated. I did everything you asked of me."

"Are you going to question my…suggestions... again? Or will you obey without hesitation?"

"But it wasn't an order…" he whispered, the cold of the floor numbing his legs, spreading slowly upward.

Kolya's knife came out of the sheath. He dragged the tip along Rodney's jaw, down his throat. But not hard enough to pierce skin. Yet. "Care to rephrase that?"

"Please, no…don't…please," he begged, holding perfectly still.

Kolya smiled darkly. "I think I am going to enjoy my dinner. You will stay here, like this, without moving while I eat. When and if you are ready to apologize for your insubordination, you will be allowed to join me. If not, you will be given boiled oats to eat in your cell."

"I’m sorry. Please don't cut me. I’m sorry."

Kolya seemed surprised and pleased at that response. "I did not expect you to submit so quickly. I am impressed. Come join me, Rodney. And be wary of your tongue. If you attempt to talk back again, you will return to your cell with open wounds."

Rodney ducked his head once Kolya stepped back, nodding, waiting until the other man gave him permission to move. A moment later, the commander returned, the prick of a needle in his arm and the now familiar burn in his veins told him exactly what Kolya had done. Not that he'd been expecting him to forget.

Another minute passed before Kolya finally told him to rise, to sit at the table and eat.

The meal was actually fairly good, especially compared to what he had been eating. Kolya asked him a wide variety of questions about the program, his suggestions for improvements, materials lists, and other things. He was building a nuclear weapon for Acastus Kolya.

Part of him knew it was bad…and wrong…and bad. But he was a genius. He was sure he could make sure it would never actually work—if he lived long enough to see it through.

When the meal was over, Kolya, who watched him carefully as he drew the blanket back up over himself, escorted him back to his cell. "I have not yet decided whether or not you deserve the privilege of dressing in the labs again tomorrow. Since I am not an unreasonable man, perhaps I will give you a second chance. Perhaps."

Rodney simply held his gaze, not saying a word, not wanting to run the risk of upsetting him again—at least not today.

Finally, Kolya nodded with another dark smile. "Do not try my patience, Rodney. It will only last for so long." With that, he turned and strode out, leaving Rodney alone again.

With a muttered "I belong to Acastus Kolya", Rodney turned onto his side, huddling under the too-thin blanket before falling into sleep, dreaming of John and wishing he was anywhere else except here.

***

Jita was restless.

His days had settled into a pattern. Every other day he spent by his master’s side at court, and then spent the evening in his bed. Jita loved those days, loved the attention, being petted, pampered, and touched. His master was very generous with his touches.

Some nights Jita would come and come and come, until coming hurt, but he did it anyway because it pleased Ashira. Other nights, Jita was lucky if he came once, twice, his master winding him up and keeping him there, waiting, sobbing, begging for release.

He shivered at the memories.

But the other days, the in-between days, Jita hated.

He spent those mornings sleeping, resting and recovering from the previous night. But by the afternoons he was awake and restless. He was trusted to dose himself with pria now, both Jacquil and Silas praising him repeatedly for how good he was about it.

Sometimes they were there in the afternoons, petting him, holding him, telling him stories until he could stop crying, begging to be allowed back into his master’s bed.

But today he was alone. He roamed through the rooms, arousal thrumming through him. He wished he dared touch himself, but that was forbidden, and he would not risk displeasing Ashira, risk losing his court days. He had solved all the puzzles left in his rooms to entertain him in the first few days, losing interest quickly.

He was so lonely. He wanted to be touched.

Instead of thinking of that, Jita thought about the good days, when he got to spend hours nuzzling his master’s thighs, his cock, even getting to touch it with the tip of his tongue sometimes. Jita shivered with desire, licking his lips. Sometimes his master got hard and came during court.

That made him stop, frown. Sometimes Ashira came because of Jita, watching him perform, touching him, but sometimes … sometimes it was for the dancers.

Jita didn’t notice much about the court, his focus on Ashira, but because his master noticed the dancers, Jita did. Their movements were languid, sensuous. They were like sex.

Hmmmm. He bet he could dance like that. And then his master would only get hard for him. Would only come for him. Jita was his favorite, and he didn’t ever want to lose that status.

Naked except for the cock ring that was always on when he was not with Ashira, Jita cleared a space in the middle of the room. Using what little he remembered, and then just letting his body flow, Jita got lost in the wonderful sensations of dancing. He was so hard he was leaking, but it felt so good.

He didn’t hear anyone come in, lost in his own hazy world, but his name, spoken sharply, had him automatically dropping to the ground, knees spread wide, head down, even before he fully registered it.

"Jita, what are you doing?" Jacquil's voice was quiet, soft.

"Dancing, sir. I...I thought it might...might please my master. He likes the dancers in court."

"Yes, he does. Do you think he is displeased with you for some reason? You have been with us for many, many turns of the moon, have lasted longer with him than others."

Jita shuddered hard. "I don't ever want him to get tired of me. What if he decides he likes them better?"

"Does he touch them?"

"He comes from watching them." Jita felt the tears rolling down his face, and he trembled, wishing Jacquil would come hold him. But he knew better than to ask.

"Look at me."

Jita obeyed, miserable, his eyes wide.

"Answer my questions," Jacquil said, voice firm, but his eyes were soft. "Does he touch them?"

"No, sir." It came out as a whisper. "But he doesn't want me every day. If I can dance, maybe he'll want me every day."

"Did I ask you to elaborate?"

He trembled, but shook his head. "No, sir."

"Now, listen and answer. Does he touch them?"

"No, sir."

"Feed them?"

"No, sir."

"Speak to them?"

Jita shook his head, biting his bottom lip slightly. "No, sir."

"Caress them?"

He shuddered hard, sense memory of being touched momentarily overwhelming him. He wanted to be caressed, right now. But he forced himself to focus, to answer. "No, sir."

"Let them suck him?"

Opening his mouth to pant, Jita just shook his head this time.

"Concentrate on my words, not the actions or the memories. Does he fuck them?"

Jita moaned softly. "N...no, sir."

"Does he love them?"

That one surprised him, making his eyes go wide. "I... I don't know, sir. No?"

"He enjoys them because they are pretty, and they move well, but you are beautiful to him. Perfect. He loves you. Never forget that. He treats you like a precious possession and he wishes you by his side for as long as you live. He takes care of you so you can be."

Muscles he hadn't realized were tense suddenly relaxed, and he smiled up at Jacquil, a little goofily. "He loves me? He will never set me aside?"

"Most last within his service less than four turns of the moons. How many have passed since your arrival?"

Jita tried to think, tried to count up the moons. "Eighteen?"

"It has been several more, but do you get my point?"

Jita smiled again. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I've been bad, haven't I?"

"No. Simply jealous, which is understandable."

He felt himself flush. "He is a perfect master. He is so kind to me, he touches me... I just want to please him, always."

"You do. If you wish to dance for him, ask him if you can. He may permit it. But do it for you, not because you are jealous of others."

He nodded. "I will." The chill of the tile under his knees made him shiver. He had pushed the rugs that were usually down aside before he started dancing. "Jacquil? May I go lie in bed? Will you sit with me?"

"I do not have long, but I will spend all the time I have here with you," he said kindly, offing Jita a hand to help him stand.

Climbing into the plush cushions that were his bed, Jita curled up, his head resting near Jacquil's thigh so his trainer could stroke his hair. Eventually, he dozed, only waking slightly when the bed shifted as the other man left.

When the next morning finally came, he was already up and partially prepared for court when Silas and Jacquil both arrived for him. They always delivered him to his master personally.

"Eager this morning, Jita?" Silas teased, moving toward the cabinet that held the make-up Jita wore on court days.

Jita nodded, pulling on the last of his jewelry before donning the silks. "Court days are my favorites." He opened his mouth obediently when Jacquil offered the extra pria and the laai fruit that kept him hard for Ashira's pleasure. He shivered as the familiar warmth spread through him.

Silas chuckled, sharpening the eye pencil. "Then it is a good thing that Ashira enjoys these days as well," Jacquil said.

Jita hummed, sitting as Silas directed him to apply the finishing touches. "I'm his favorite... Never set me aside... loves me..."

"What did you tell him, Jacquil? His head's in the clouds," Silas chuckled even as his hand was sure and firm as he applied the make-up.

Jacquil laughed. "He was feeling jealous of the dancers yesterday. He wasn't positive of his master's affection, so he needed to be reminded."

"Of them?" Silas rolled his eyes. "They're nothing more than traveling entertainers. Here one day, gone the next."

"Not me." Jita hummed. "I'll always be here, pleasing Ashira. Never going away."

"You make it easy for all of us, Jita," Silas said, stepping back, regarding him carefully before moving in again, a little more pencil added around his eyes.

"I make you proud of me." He said, leaning into his trainers' warmth as they guided him down the halls.

The court was already in session, as it was usually, when Jita arrived, a new troupe of dancers setting up to perform for Ashira.

Even with the pleasure humming through him, he spared a moment to shoot them a dirty look. Then he dropped to his knees to await his master's pleasure, to be allowed to approach.

"Jita," Ashira said a beat after his knees hit the floor. "What are you doing so far away? Please come and take your rightful place."

He didn't bother to rise, crawling the small amount of space it took to close the distance between them. He sighed happily when Ashira's fingers combed through his hair, leaning into the caress. This was where he belonged.

"Are you well rested? I have a big day planned for you."

Jita moaned, nodding. "Yes, master. And..." He hesitated, what Jacquil had told him surfacing. "I... If you'd like, I can dance for you. I practiced. Ooooh..." His hesitant offer ended in a moan, his hips stuttering at the caresses he was getting. He always felt touch starved after going a full day without.

"You dance?"

"If you want me to, master. The...the dancers here seem to please you, so I wanted to... to..."

"Jita," Ashira said, gently turned his head toward him. "Do you dance?"

"Yes, master." His eyes fell half closed.

And suddenly Ashira's hands were gone, clapping together above his head. "I need music." A few seconds later and strains of music filled the court and Ashira leaned down, hands caressing Jita's face. "Dance for me, Jita."

Nodding, a little breathless, Jita rose and moved to the center of the floor. Picking up the strain of melody, he surrendered himself to it, gliding across the floor.

When the music finally ended, Jita stopped—heart pounding, panting for breath, his cock red and hard. Ashira smiled softly, gesturing him to him, tugging him onto his lap. "You did that for me?"

He arched a little, moaning at the firm hands on his body. "Yes, master. Only for you."

Ashira smiled oddly, hands caressing Jita's body before trailing up to his face, stroking against his cheeks. He leaned in, pressed his lips to Jita's, kissing him.

Making a needy, desperate noise, Jita parted his lips, letting his master inside. He was kissed for a long time, until he was breathless again, but even so, when Ashira pulled back he whimpered at the loss, swollen lips still parted.

"Beautiful. So beautiful," Ashira whispered, a small piece of pria touching his lips.

Moaning again, Jita accepted the fruit, daring to lick at his master's fingers a little at the same time.

Ashira chuckled, kissing Jita again, lightly this time. "We shall have plenty of time for that later." His hand slow stroked Jita's cock, "But right now, I want to see you come for me, sitting here in my lap in front of my court."

Panting, Jita's head fell back, his hips stuttering. So good so good so good... With a cry, he did as he had been told, coming so hard it left him trembling. "Ashira... Master..."

"Shhh….perfect, Jita. Perfect." He touched and caressed him as he came down from his climax, lips pressed to his shoulder. "Are you ready for more?"

Jita leaned into Ashira's warmth, humming softly. "Yes, always, anything you want master. Anything."

"Do you remember the slave you fucked the first day you were in my court? He is still being…obstinate. I had him brought up for you to use again."

Jita nodded, opening his lips when yet another small piece of pria was pressed against them. "If it pleases you, master."

"It does. I want you to come so many times today it hurts. Fuck him until he cannot take anymore. Come as many times as you want. Fill him. And then when you're done and he can't take it any more, I want you to plug him with one of the largest plugs we have. Do you understand?"

Jita shuddered a little. Ashira never allowed him to fuck him—that was the one and only thing forbidden to him in their bed—so the idea of being the one inside another made his pulse race. "Anything you want, Master."

"I want you to be happy."

"I am." Jita smiled, not trying to hide anything.

"Good," Ashira said, kissing him again. "So go and enjoy your present. I will enjoy watching you. Take your time. We have as much time as you want."

Jita was flying high from the kiss—he had been told Ashira never kissed!—so he wanted to make his master so proud of him. He took his time with the slave, prepping him, then fucking him. The slave came several times—had probably been given the same fruit Jita took before court—before he passed out. Jita himself came twice as many times, knowing it would make Ashira happy. Once the slave was unconscious, he took the large plug that had been set nearby and pushed it in, noting in passing that it stretched the man even wider than Jita had. That done, he turned back to Ashira, taking a step forward with a questioning glance.

Ashira smiled broadly gesturing him forward. He kissed him—open mouthed and wet—before cleaning him with a soft cloth and having him settle at his feet. He pressed several pria and another laai fruit into his mouth one by one before resting his hand against Jita's head, fingers trailing through his hair and down his neck. His hand was never still, caressing and touching, offering encouragement when Jita nuzzled his thigh, stroked his leg.

Oh so good. Jita was floating. He wanted this every day. Never wanted to be separated from his master. He knew that wasn't possible, but oh how he wanted.

He drifted for most of the day like that, sucking Ashira off a few times when he asked while he conducted one round of business or another. It was all the same to Jita, one blending into another.

Without warning, his master's voice suddenly took on a tone Jita had never heard before. Anger. More than anger—fury. His hands tightened in Jita's hair, making him whimper softly and freeze in place. What had he done? Oh god, what had he done to make his master so displeased with him?

But Ashira let go of his tight hold, petting Jita, soothing the hurt with his hands.

Jita shook, risking a glance up, his eyes wide and afraid even as he tried to scoot closer into Ashira's warmth.

"Shush, Jita. There is nothing for you to worry about," Ashira said quietly before turning his attention back to the court.

He immediately relaxed, and returned to nuzzling at his master's thigh. Whatever was wrong, it wasn't something he had done.

Ashira talked and argued for most of the afternoon, absently petting and stroking Jita's face and neck and shoulders. He pressed pria to his mouth randomly and Jita took it eagerly, nipping at his master's fingers until he received a smile.

That smile warmed him, made him purr softly. Even though something was troubling him, Jita could still put that soft look on his face. It promised rewards later, and love and caresses that made him melt.

Finally, finally! Ashira tugged Jita up, hands pressing on each side of his face as he kissed him soundly.

Jita moaned, opening up, his body responding. This was what he wanted! He wanted Ashira to be done with whatever was making him unhappy and bring Jita back to his bed, where he could make his master forget. His own hands wrapped around Ashira's shoulders as he gave himself up to his master's pleasure.

When Ashira finally pulled back, he smiled at Jita. "Come, I have had enough of the court this day. Let us take dinner in my rooms and enjoy ourselves this night."

"Oh yes... He arched slightly before standing at his master's bidding, accepting another bite of pria as soon as he was on his feet. Moaning, he swayed into Ashira's arms, making his master laugh softly.

"Come," he said speaking to Jita but his eyes were fixed on something else. "You have not come enough today. I will not settle for not enough."

Jita nodded, his eyes only on his master. He would make him forget whatever was bothering him. "Anything, master. Anything you want."

"I have observed that you have many skills, but there is one that you do exceptionally well. Tonight I want you to pleasure me until I can no longer speak and then start all over again. Tonight, I am in your hands," he said as they moved into the rear halls, the private residence of his master. "I wish for you to come as often and as many times as you wish."

Jita was trembling by the time they made it into the bedroom. As soon as the door was closed, he knew he was allowed to move freely. He plastered himself against Ashira, using his whole body to caress and touch. Tentatively, since this was still new, he raised his head, kissing at his master's neck, moving up slowly towards his mouth while his fingers found all the spots he knew would make Ashira moan.

"So perfect…so beautiful," he was whispering, moaning as Jita touched him, caressed him.

"Yours, master. Please, always yours..." He moaned as Ashira closed the distance between their mouths, licking inside him, then sucking on his tongue, inviting him to do the same. He lifted a leg, wrapping it around his master's waist to pull them closer together while they kissed, still seeking and finding hot spots.

"Jita…please…" Ashira whispered, begging for more—a sound Jita had never heard before.

It made him tremble, coming hard even as he worked a hand into Ashira's silk pants, wrapping his fingers around the hot erection and stroking it exactly how he knew to do it to make his master come immediately. He plastered their lips together again, this time doing the plundering, letting Ashira taste his desperation, his need, and his love.

Ashira shuddered and came, his body trembling from his climax, his cock already hardening once again in Jita's hand. The laai fruit was very good.

Jita himself was already hard again. With a sly grin, he pulled away and started to strip his master slowly, making sure to brush against nipples and cock, but keeping the touches fleeting, light.

He gasped and shuddered at each and every touch, letting Jita have his way. Once they were both naked, their bodies free of the silken garments, Jita took his master by the hand and led him to the large bed.

"Let me love you, master. Let me make you feel good, show you how good you make me feel." He climbed on top, shifting their hips together as he spoke.

"Yes, Jita. I am yours tonight."

Humming, Jita began to roll their erections together, finding his master's nipples and fondling them until he came again.

With a pleased moan, Ashira slumped against the bed, his cock softening slightly after his climax, only to harden again, a little slower than before.

Jita wiggled down to kiss it, then rose up, positioning himself above it and sinking down, impaling himself. "Oh…Master... So good…So full..." He wiggled a little, ready to come just from this.

"Oh…Jita…more…more…"

Groaning, he began to move, riding Ashira. When he got the angle right, he threw his own head back, keening as his prostate was hit again and again and again. When a hand wrapped around his dick, that was all it took, and he was coming, clenching hard around the cock buried deep inside him.

Ashira followed him over, pulsing deep inside him as he groaned again, his body trembling as he came.

Jita slumped down, panting. Ashira was still inside him, already hardening again, while Jita sprawled across his chest, idly tracing patterns in the soft hair there while he tried to catch his breath.

"Is this…do you like this?" Ashira asked quietly after several minutes.

"Mmmmm." Jita managed to look up without lifting his head, blinking a happy, sated smile at his master.

"Good. Can you reach the bowl? We both need more laai and you deserve some more pria. And we need dinner as well."

As if on cue, Jita's stomach rumbled, making him flush a little. He pushed himself up, and managed to reach the bowl to hand over without pulling off Ashira's cock. He gave his master a sly smile, looking up through his eyelashes before he wiggled again.

Ashira moaned, eyes fluttering. "Feed me?" he finally managed to say. "Take what you want for yourself."

Jita moaned. He held the laai fruit up to Ashira's lips, shuddering hard when he took it and licked Jita's fingers. With shaking hands, he fed himself another of the laai, and one of the pria, their effect making him move almost immediately, fucking himself again, coming again, twice in rapid succession. "F…food? We should... dinner?"

"Whatever you wish, my pet."

Jita groaned and sprawled back out across Ashira's body, licking his way into the other man's mouth. After they had both come several more times, his hunger made itself known again. He finally pulled off, letting his master slip out of his body, padding over to the table where a tray of delicacies had been set. He brought it to the bed, and put a piece of soft cheese between his teeth, moving to feed it to Ashira that way.

Ashira chuckled, smiling at Jita as he took the cheese from him, lips lingering. "You are certainly inventive."

Jita blushed, body tingling with the compliment. "Thank you."

"Was that all you are feeding me?"

Smiling, he selected another bite, giving it to Ashira the same way. By the time they had both eaten their fill, Jita was panting again, moving restlessly against his master's body.

"What do you want, Jita? Tell me."

"You. This." He swallowed, risking telling Ashira some of what he feared. "Don't ever set me aside, send me away. Want to be your favorite always."

"You will always be my favorite, but right now, Jita, tell me. What do you want, right now? I am yours to play with, to pleasure. What do you want?"

He licked his lips. "Can I... Can I touch you? Inside? Like you touch me? Make you feel like I do, like…you can touch the sky."

"You want that?"

"I want you, master. I want to know I'm the one who makes you scream and come. I want to know every spot on your body, like you know mine."

"Then. Let's see if you can do that, shall we?"

With focused concentration, Jita got the lube and, for the first time, touched Ashira's entrance. "Has anyone else ever been permitted to touch you like this? I…I don't want to hurt you."

"It has been very long."

Nodding, Jita took it very slow. He took a long time to push a single finger in, and when he found the small bump of his master's prostate, he was rewarded for his effort.

Ashira bucked up, nearly dislodging Jita's hand as he did so. His moan was loud and continuous, his body trembling as his cock dripped more and more pre-come. "So good," he panted. "So good, Jita."

Smirking a little, Jita pulled the finger partway out, so he could push a second in beside it. Then he began to finger-fuck Ashira with every ounce of skill he could find.

His master shuddered and shook, begging for more. He came several times, just from the finger fucking, his cock quickly hardening again.

Jita added a third finger, stretching Ashira further. With cock dripping with lube, he pulled his fingers free and pushed himself inside. He groaned. Oh god, so much better than the slave he had been given. So good, so good... He realized Ashira was chanting it right along with him.

"More, Jita…more," he whispered, caught up in his own pleasure.

He gave Ashira time to adjust then began moving. Slowly at first, and then hard, taking Ashira, claiming him as much as Jita himself was claimed. When he finally came, after Ashira spasmed around him, Jita managed to pull out before he collapsed onto the bed, the world going a little white around him.

He came back to the present with Ashira over him, stroking him, caressing him, pressing light kisses to his throat and face. He was chanting over and over. "So perfect, so beautiful."

With a happy noise, Jita lifted heavy arms to wrap them around Ashira's shoulders.

"Sleep?"

As an answer, Jita tugged him down, then snuggled into his embrace, head resting on his master's chest.

Humming in contentment, Jita felt his master tumble into slumber.

He followed swiftly, and the next morning was full of more kisses, more caresses. When Jacquil came to collect him, he was floating, unable to stop smiling. His morning passed the same way, sleeping, resting. He had just gotten up and started to pace his rooms as usual, when he was surprised to have a visitor.

"How quickly can you prepare yourself for court?" Silas asked, moving quietly into the room.

"Court?"

"There is someone who wishes to meet you."

He was already following his trainer into the prep room, but that made him stop. "I only talk to you and Jacquil and Ashira. You are my family."

"Ashira has made an exception in this case. You will speak with this individual, but you must be presentable. Please, hurry."

Still confused, Jita obeyed. He got his jewelry and silks on in record time, and Silas quickly painted his face. "I don't understand..."

"Someone here claims they know you and wishes to meet you. Ashira has permitted it, along with a brief exam. He will be present the entire time along with Jacquil and I. You will honestly answer any questions asked to the best of your ability."

Jita started to shake, unconsciously backing up. No. He belonged to Ashira.

Silas caught his arm. "We will be with you. You have nothing to fear. Do you trust me?"

Jita nodded, and, swallowing hard, he obediently followed Silas. He was brought to a room he had never seen before, and was breathing hard, frightened a little. Ashira was there, and Jacquil, and a stranger Jita didn't.... he didn't... he started to shake, hard, not calming until his master suddenly gathered him into his arms.

"Shush. You will not be harmed. Is this any way to great a guest of my court?"

Jita's eyes widened, and he shook his head. He sucked in a breath and sank to the floor, head bowed. "I'm sorry, master. I'll be better next time."

"It is fine. I understand this is unusual. Please stand. My guest has a few questions to ask of you and he will conduct a brief exam." Ashira quickly continued, when Jita started trembling again. "We are not leaving. Be still."

Jita tried, he really did. He stood as he had been ordered, but he desperately wanted pria. Jacquil hadn't been there to give him extra. He looked over at the trainer, lips parting slightly in a silent plea.

Jacquil shook his head, gesturing toward the stranger. "After you will get what you wish."

He licked his lips, turning his gaze to the stranger. His body had automatically flowed into a submissive pose he had been taught. The man was stocky, with brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing what looked like a uniform. Jita thought it looked like something—someone—he should remember, but it escaped him.

"Aye, laddie. I have no intention of harming you," the man said, his voice strangely calming, his eyes shining brightly. It was almost as if he was about ready to cry. "You…Ashira tells me your name is Jita. Is that correct?"

He nodded. "I belong to Ashira. He is my master." He glanced quickly at the man in question before looking back. "I'm his favorite."

The stranger's lips quirked in a half smile before sobering again. "Yes, you are certainly a favorite. Jita, my name is Carson and I'm a medical doctor. Do you understand that?"

Carson... He said it once, trying the taste of it in his mouth. It was... not unfamiliar. But again, the strange sense that he should know this man slipped away. "They said you wanted to...to.." Swallowing, he fought down his fear. "To examine me. Are you... going to touch me?"

"If Ashira allows it, yes, but nothing you would consider private places."

Jita looked over at his master, seeking reassurance that this was what he wanted, that this would please him.

Ashira smiled, nodding his head.

Jita took a step forward, then sank to his knees again, as he had been taught to do for Silas when the trainer wanted to look him over.

"Oh…John…eh…Jita, there's no need for that. You can just sit in the chair."

His head had popped up at the word John, his eyes wide. That was... why did that sound familiar? He was starting to get scared again, so confused. Why couldn't this be another between day, like all the others? Shaking his head, he once more looked desperately for Ashira, wanting very much to just be held and petted and told it was okay.

"Pay attention to Carson," he said instead, gesturing to the doctor.

Jita whimpered softly, but obeyed his master. He crawled over to the chair the guest had indicated, climbing into it.

"How are you feeling, Jita? Okay?"

"I...I want pria. Can I have some?"

"What is that?"

He licked his lips, looking to Jacquil this time. "It makes me feel good."

"How?" he asked, voice calm, quiet.

Jita closed his eyes, focusing on how the pria felt. "Good. Everything feels so good. Touches, just want to be touched, want to come. Want to please my master."

"I….ah…so it's a drug?"

"Fruit. Sweet, so sweet..." His lips parted again, as he opened his eyes, begging. "Please?"

"I…" Carson looked flustered. "I don't have any and I believe someone mentioned something about getting some after…yes, after this. Actually," he said standing abruptly. "Would it be possible to get several…pria to take home with me?"

Jita whimpered again, choking back a sob when the pria he craved was handed over to this Carson. He followed it with his eyes, desperate. "I'll be good. So good. Please?" He turned to look at Ashira. "Please?"

"Later. I promise."

He nodded, feeling a bit miserable, not really understanding what was going on. The doctor person guest turned back to him, his eyes bright again.

"I'm going to go through a few tests and I will touch you. I want to prepare you so you don't get startled. I also need to take a blood sample. It won't hurt much, just a prick in your arm," he said, gesturing to the spot, "and then I'll get a vial of your blood."

He bit his lip, but nodded. "My master says its okay..."

"Aye, he did," Carson nodded, moving slowly, deliberately, making sure Jita saw every movement as he worked. It didn't take long and it didn't hurt before the doctor was putting his tools away. "I do have a few other questions."

He nodded again, but was grateful when Ashira moved to him, standing behind the chair and putting his arms around Jita. He relaxed, the tension visibly leaving his body. "Yes, sir."

Carson's eyes slid up to Ashira and sadness filled them for a moment.

He didn't understand that, but something about it made him...uncomfortable. "Have I done something bad?"

"No, nothing at all," Carson said after a moment, finally pulling another chair around the table and sitting down. Jita knew he was lying, but not what he was lying about. It was strange. "Jita, do you remember how you came to be in Ashira's court?"

He blinked. "Jaquil and Silas brought me here, to please the master. I made them very proud of me."

"How about before that? I'd love to know your story."

He tilted his head, trying to remember. "I don't know. It's all...fuzzy. I don't really remember not belonging to Ashira. I...I used to dream. When I first came to court. But now I take pria before bed, and I don't dream anymore."

"What did you dream about? Anything good?" Carson's voice had dropped, was kind, almost conspiratorial, like they were two twelve-year-old girls sharing gossip at a sleepover. Jita paused. Where had that come from?"

He shook his head, trying to make sense of things. "I... The sky. I remember dreaming I could touch the sky, that I could fly. And... A face. He had blue eyes, like you."

Carson got sad again. "Aye. I'm sure he did." He looked up to Ashira. "May I give him a picture?"

Jita was startled, but Ashira nodded, a bit grimly. He didn't like his master looking so unhappy.

The doctor reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture. It looked like it had been cut, the one side angled and uneven. Carson paused looking at it before handing it over. "I'd like you to keep this."

Jita's eyes widened. "Rodney...." Then he shook his head, dropping the photo, pushing back into Ashira. "No. Nononono. I belong to Ashira. He is my master...."

Carson quickly rose, wiping at his cheek as he headed for the door. "Thank you for allowing me to see him…examine him. I…we appreciate it."

Jita couldn't help it, he started to cry, to sob, trying to curl into himself. He didn't know what was going on, why was this happening? Who was this man and why did he have pictures from Jita's old dreams?

Jacquil held him as Ashira followed the doctor…Carson out of the room. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Should I throw out the picture?"

He didn't know. He didn't want to ever see it again, but at the same time, the thought of throwing it away made his chest ache. He buried his head in Jacquil's shoulder and shook his head. "I don't understand..."

"Shhh…don't worry. I'll throw out the picture as soon as I get the chance."

"No!" He was shaking, but picked up the photo again. "I...can I... keep it? I don't know why I want it, but..." He tore his tear-filled eyes away from the face that called to some part of him, and looked at Jacquil. "Pria? You promised. Please..."

"If you want it, you can keep it. But before I give you pria, let's bring you back to your room first."

His eyes widened. "I don't get to... Ashira doesn't want me tonight?"

"We need to get you presentable first."

He nodded, letting Jacquil and Silas lead him back. He put the photo in his lounging room, then was plied with pria and laai, cleaned and re-dressed. They had him stand still and just let them work, instead of like usual, where he did a lot of it himself.

"Are you better now?" Silas asked quietly as he put the finishing touches on his eyes.

He nodded, eyes a bit unfocused. He hoped Ashira would just hold him, take care of him. The confusion of the day was buried under the familiar rush of warmth through his extremities. "Can I go to the master now?"

"In a few minutes," Jacquil said. "We are waiting for him to inform us when he's ready."

Jita nodded, swaying on his feet as he waited, patiently, for his master to send for him.

By the time he did, Jita was almost purring from the pria and he was hard as a rock.

They led him in, like always. This time, off to one side, he saw the guest from before, standing with a small group. They all looked vaguely familiar in the same way Carson had, but as soon as he was past them, he forgot them. All he cared about now was Ashira, and pleasing him.

Ashira smiled at him, gesturing toward his usual position at his feet.

Jita flowed into his spot, angling his face up, lips parted. Ashira didn't disappoint, sliding the small fruit between his lips. Jita's eyes half closed, and now he did purr, nuzzling against his master's leg.

Ashira's hand continued to pet him, playing with his hair as he talked business. He heard the words Carson and John and Rodney and Hadrious a few times, but they had no point of reference except for that small room from before.

Slowly, he tuned it all out, just as he always did. Content where he belonged, his veins buzzing with arousal and warmth, Jita surrendered to the sensations. Nothing else mattered.

***

Once they got Elizabeth Weir involved, negotiations with Milkia went much smoother. She was a much better diplomat that he was.

And she didn't have Cadman gleefully sharpening knives every time she walked past.

Evan Lorne shuddered a little at the thought. He was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking over the mission for the day. Milkia had been partially charmed by the vixen demolisher, and had agreed to give them at least a little help. After much coaxing, he gave them the names of several buyers he had seen bidding on Sheppard. They had three names, and they were all hoping like hell one of them would turn something up.

Nothing else had so far.

Several weeks of dead leads, and Evan knew everyone was starting to lose hope that they would find their missing people. He sighed.

Oddly enough, Parrish had been the optimistic one through everything. Apparently it was time to check out what they were growing down in the botany labs again.

As if thinking his name had summoned him, David came wandering out of the bathroom, partially dressed and completely rumpled. Evan moved to let him know he was awake. "Hey."

"Oh. Morning. I have to get down to the labs. Didn't think you were awake. Katie has some fantastic projects—"

"David. We have a mission today, remember? Sheppard? Leads?"

Parrish rolled his eyes. "I remember, mother. That's why I need to check on a few things."

Evan grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. "Ewww. Okay, that mental picture was one I just didn't need. As far as pet names go, I have to veto 'mother' as firmly as possible."

David sidestepped around it as he tugged on his shirt. "If you insist on mothering me, it's appropriate." The uniform jacket followed next as he moved back to the bed, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Evan's lips. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Evan smiled, twining his fingers through David's hair to pull him down for a deeper kiss. "Don't be late."

"You're the one with the inability to read a digital clock and adjust your schedule appropriately." David easily tugged himself free and headed for the door.

"Yeah yeah..." Evan sighed, and finally rolled himself out of bed. Quickly getting dressed, he headed for the briefing room, where Doctors Weir, Beckett, and Zelenka were waiting for him. He needed to go over a few things quickly before they headed out again.

They were talking quietly, the mood subdued—and getting more so the longer this dragged on. Beckett glanced up, offering a tired smile. "Morning, Evan. You look rested."

He slid into his—temporary—seat. "Doesn't pay to go out in the field at anything less than full capacity. So what's new? Any more news from Cadman?"

Weir shook her head as she settled into her own seat, a smile playing on her lips. "Nothing if you don't count the brawl she broke up last night. Seems a few guys were hitting on Ingalls."

"Ingalls? Huge Marine with a big gun? That Ingalls? And by a guy?" Lorne had to stifle the laughter a bit.

"Yes, that Ingalls. You should have heard Cadman tell it at this morning's briefing."

He shook his head. "I think I'm glad I wasn't there. How many bodies were there?"

"That you'll have to ask Cadman yourself. And it was a good choice to put her there, Evan."

He glanced at Beckett, offering a hesitant grin. "She's one of the more competent women I know, ma'am, and since he was insistent on a female being alone as a guard..."

"Yer safe, Evan," Beckett said with a chuckle. "No needles."

"So, what's on the agenda today? I know we've expanded the search to several of the individuals who purchase slaves regularly," Weir asked, getting down to business.

He nodded. "Right. Cadman managed to get the names and locations of the top three bidders Milkia remembers vying for Colonel Sheppard. I'm taking my team to check out the one called Jacquil, a buyer for someone named Ashira. Cadman is taking her team to check out Marcus, a big buyer in this market, apparently. And Ronon and Teyla are taking a few Marines to see Petronio, who, from all reports, was bidding hard for Sheppard at the auction. With any luck, one of these will actually turn something up."

"And the plan if it does? I don't want the same thing to happen like before with Milkia."

Lorne flushed slightly. "The plan is to make contact if we can, and try to get the mood of Sheppard's, ah, owner, as well as get a sense for how he's been treated. If it seems safe, we'll call you in, ma'am, as well as consolidate the teams around the area in cloaked jumpers, in case anything goes wrong."

"You have an extrication plan in place?"

He nodded. "If negotiations fail, we'll get him out by force. While you're trying to find a peaceful solution, we'll be casing the area, looking for weaknesses, trying to determine where Sheppard is being held, under what conditions."

"Okay," she nodded, glancing down at her PDA. "And I should probably get an update on Atlantis. Anything I need to know?"

He shook his head. "Pretty quiet, ma'am. Almost everyone is worried about Sheppard and McKay, so most people are a bit subdued. The mood is a little melancholy, but once we find them and bring them home, that will turn around."

"It's been three and a half weeks. How likely is it at this point?"

"We're going to bring them home."

Weir sighed, nodding. Both Beckett and Zelenka were staring at their hands or PCs—whatever it took so they didn't have to meet his eyes.

It sparked his anger. He was not going to leave men behind, especially not these two. They would keep looking until they either found the missing personnel or the bodies. Period. "As long as we have leads, I will keep sending teams."

Elizabeth took a breath, finally meeting his gaze. "We have to funnel some of our resources differently. Have you read the reports from some of the other teams? The Wraith are becoming more active and sooner or later they're going to come looking for us again. We need to make sure we're prepared." She paused, her expression hard. "I'll give you a few more days—until the end of the week—and we're going to have to pull the teams back."

He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white. "And then what? We just give up on them? Say, 'sorry, you were sold to slavers and we couldn't find you in a month, so you're dead to us now?'"

"No. We'll keep looking, but we have to reallocate some of our resources. We don't have unlimited manpower."

He shook his head. No wonder Sheppard always looked like he had an ulcer after senior staff meetings. Evan understood that military and civilians had different priorities, and he was all in favor of finding balance most of the time. But on this... He rose, expression cold. "If you don't have anything else for me then, ma'am, I need to prepare for my mission."

"Major Lorne…please sit. We're not finished," Weir said, her voice weary.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but if you're giving me a deadline to find my commanding officer and our head of science, I need every moment I can get."

"Bloody hell. Sit," Beckett said, his own anger finally bleeding through his expression, his voice.

Hesitating again briefly, Evan sank back down. "Sheppard is good man, not to mention one of the best officers I've ever served under, idiosyncrasies aside. He is alive out there. We know they didn't want him to kill him. I will not stop searching until I have found him and brought him back to Atlantis."

"While I hate to side with Elizabeth in this, I have to agree with her. Did you see what was left of Fisher's team? One man out of four. Why? Because we sent one team when we needed two. How about Hughes? Do you think he expected to be sent home on the Daedalus because he's missing a limb? Should we even talk about the rest of that team? They won't be headed into the field for a month if not more. Kate has some heavy work ahead of her. And I’m not even going into the science missions we're letting sit by the wayside. What if we're missing something important on one of those missions that we need…really need later on?"

Lorne flinched, and sank into his seat, putting his head in his hands. God, he couldn't wait to give Sheppard back his job. No wonder the man was always pushing the more trivial paperwork off to other people, if these were the sorts of decisions he had to deal with on a regular basis. "I know. God, I know. But... just promise me, if we find a good, credible lead, you'll let me follow it."

"You have my promise, Evan," Weir said quietly. "We want them back as much as you do. But that brings me to another question."

He sighed, but nodded. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Actually," Zelenka said, raising his hand hesitantly. "It is my request. Rodney had many science missions scheduled and I am still attempting to work through his organizational structure—which is nearly impossible to comprehend—but there is one mission, maybe two, we need to go on." He cringed again, meeting Lorne's eyes. "Possibly this week."

Evan noted the dark circles under Zelenka's eyes. It occurred to him that the Czech was probably struggling just as much as he was with a workload their commanders seemed to juggle with ease. "All right. Can we wait to schedule anything until after my mission today?"

"Yes," he said, "but soon. You are one of strongest gene carriers on Atlantis and we need you."

He crinkled his head in confusion for a moment, before he remembered that Sheppard usually set aside a chunk of every week to work in the labs, turning things on and off. He moaned, dropping his head to the table. "I take back every comment I've ever made about that man's work ethic. His job is going to kill me."

"Doctor Beckett has been helpful, but for mission we require military support." Zelenka shrugged. "This means your team, Major."

He hated that. If he was running science missions, that meant he had to have another team looking for Sheppard and McKay. But he also knew that, realistically, he had no choice. "Fine. If you wouldn't mind prioritizing what you need, when I get back, I'll sit down with you and we'll get the most important at least scheduled."

Zelenka slid the folder he'd been resting his arms on over to Evan. "You will find missions prioritized."

Evan gave the scientist a wry grin. "I'm not sure if I should thank you, Doc, or plot revenge."

"I have no time for revenge, thanks will be sufficient," he replied, offering a brief smile.

Lorne tucked the folder under his arm, scrawling a mental sticky note to remember to read through it later. "All right, anything else?"

"I think that should be enough," Weir said with a nod. "Unless you have something else to add."

He shook his head. "No. All the teams will be checking in with Atlantis today, so you should know as soon as we do if any of the leads pan out."

"Good. You're scheduled for a departure at 1300, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then I'll see you in the gateroom in a few hours." She glanced around the table, obviously looking to see if anyone had to add anything else. Seeing nothing, she nodded. "Dismissed."

He was up immediately, headed to his office. Zelenka's folder got dropped in a growing pile of things he needed to take care of, and he spent a few hours going over paperwork and approving the absolutely necessary things to keep the base running. Caldwell and the Daedalus would be here in the next week, so Lorne needed to have at least some things handled.

His email blinked and he moved over to the program, still not used to seeing emails from McKay's address when he knew the man was MIA. It seemed Zelenka was forwarding some of the supporting data for the items in the folder. A lot of it.

Rolling his eyes, Evan minimized the window, and went back to reports. He would deal with the science stuff later. He managed to keep himself occupied for a while, before someone clearing their throat in his door made him first check the clock—1100, still time to grab lunch before mission prep—then look up.

"I thought we were grabbing lunch."

"Parrish." Evan smiled. "We are. Sorry, lost track of time. Just let me close this out, and then we can head down. How're the plants?"

"Good. Katie's sprouts are doing very well. Gorgeous specimens. I’m jealous she got those. The ferns I have aren't as exciting."

Shaking his head, Evan shut his laptop down and stood, stretching. He had gotten used to playing second-fiddle to the plants occasionally. Hell, he even let David put a few small green things in his quarters. If he had his way, David would never know just how much power he had in this relationship—it would make him insufferable. "One of these days you'll find the Plant of the Century on one of our missions and make all the other geeks jealous."

"Maybe," David shrugged, already stepping into the hallway. "I just want something to really sink my teeth into."

Opening his mouth, Evan flushed bright red when it wasn't words that came out, but a squeak. He cleared his throat a few times. "Well, yes, we'll see what we can do about that."

David raised his eyebrow, his face showing how amused he was. "Some of us need to keep out minds out of the gutter."

"Yeah, like that's going to happen when you keep saying things like that." They started for the mess.

"I was talking about work-related projects, Evan. Some of us know how to concentrate on other things than our dicks."

"Jesus, you can't say things like that." With eyes a little wild, he ducked into an empty room, hauling in a breath. Was it his fault the mere mention of dicks in relation to, near, or from David made him react? This was totally not his fault.

His radio clicked on a moment later. "I'll be in the mess when you pull yourself together. Parrish out."

"You are an evil bastard, and I am going to torch the plants while you sleep."

"Should I mention the whole abstinence thing again?"

"Fucker." Evan took a few more breaths then headed back out, resolutely ignoring the laughter over his comm. He hung up without bothering to sign off.

Sure enough, David was in the mess a tray of food in front of him already and he was talking with several other scientists. This man was going to be the death of him.

Evan got a tray, and slid into a seat across from Parrish. They were debating the merits of soil types and additives, so he tuned it out, thinking instead about the planned mission, and Weir's ultimatum. These were the best leads they had yet, so with a little luck...

"…do you think, Major?"

"Hmm?" His rank snapped him back to attention. "About what?"

David looked at him with an amused expression, but let Katie ask her question again. "About the soil on the mainland and the crops they've managed to produce. What do you think about it?"

"It's, ah, tasty?" He speared a piece of said produce with his fork and waved it before taking a bite.

Katie's eyes widened and she shook her head, turning to Parrish. "They never listen to us. Block us out entirely."

"Okay, seriously, do you really want me to understand all the soil talk? Because then you'd have to take yet another opinion into the equation, and you'd have me down there making suggestions, and offering snide remarks when you did something I didn't agree with. This way, I get to smile and nod, enjoy the tasty food, and no one plots my death."

"Never be too sure about that," David said with a slightly evil smile before turning back to his food, the conversation starting up a beat later.

Evan made a dismissive gesture. This time he did follow the conversation, and, despite what he had said, he was picking up a lot from David. Just to be contrary, as he was finishing up his meal and getting ready to head out, he plastered on a huge grin. The conversation had moved on to crop yield, and debates over whether the Athosians would be better off with a 1:3 or a 1:5 ratio, given the circumstances.

"Personally, I'd suggest the higher, 1:5 ratio. It's all well and good to focus on survival, but 1:3 keeps you at a constant disadvantage, having to hope you don't have a bad year, or there isn't some catastrophe. 1:5 would let them—and consequently us—stockpile a good supply for any unforeseen circumstances, not to mention give us another consumable good we can offer for trade."

Humming at the stunned looks around the table, Evan waved and sauntered off with his tray.

His radio beeped about five minutes later.

He was almost to the armory, already planning out what they needed to take in addition to the standard issue stuff. "Lorne, here."

"You're a bastard sometimes, you know that, right?"

Grinning, his step developed a definite bounce. "Yup. But come on, that was funny and you know it."

"I refuse to answer because I may be incriminating myself. Jumper bay in an hour?"

Evan just laughed. "I'll see you then. Lorne, out."

The next hour went by quickly, stocking the jumper with a bit of extra munitions, just in case, and prepping everything. He was already running through pre-flight when the rest of his team arrived. Cadman's group was already on the planet, but nearby Ronon and Teyla were in another jumper with Collins and White. "All right, control, Jumpers three and four are ready when you are."

"Flight, here," came Chuck's reply. The Canadian tech had been working a lot of shifts lately Lorne vaguely realized. "Jumper three you're clear for launch. Four, hold for two minutes before launching."

"Roger that. Jumper three is launching." He took them down into the gate room, and was through the event horizon in a matter of minutes. He cloaked and checked in with the team already on planet, waiting for the third group before heading out. "Stay in constant contact everyone. If you find Sheppard, I want to know immediately."

He got confirmations from the other two teams and then they were headed off to their respective assignments. He'd taken the furthest one out on a hunch. He just hoped he was right.

They found a place to set down where no one would stumble across the jumper and then hiked in. They identified themselves as traders, and he was a little surprised when they were greeted warmly, and told that the Master of the domain was holding court, and would be willing to speak with them to open negotiations.

Laurence of Arabia had nothing on this guy if his…domain had anything to say about it. There was gold leaf and filigree everywhere. Silk and fabric and ceramics and artwork and lots and lots of slaves.

They were everywhere.

And most of them were...dressed...in clothing that left nothing to the imagination. Evan had to work hard not to blush. God, if Sheppard was here...

David, on the other hand, was looking. Really looking.

At a frank gaze from his lover, a small blush got away from him. Then he turned his attention back to the task at hand. Trying hard not to look at inappropriate places, he tried to see if he could spot Sheppard anywhere among the crowds.

They were walked into the main court and were asked to wait. It seemed as if Ashira had some other business prior to them. David took the opportunity to slide close to him. "Problem, Major?"

Evan swallowed, but shook his head. "They're very, ah, open here, aren't they? Any sign of anyone we know?"

Lorne could see the smirk without turning his head. "Want me to look to protect your delicate sensitivities?"

He shot the scientist a 'look'. "You shouldn't be looking either. Not at...that."

"Why not?" David shrugged. "Seen one, seen them all. I’m a geek, Evan. We tend to be open-minded."

"That's not..." He glanced to make sure the other two members of his team were otherwise occupied with ogling and dropped his voice. "If you really need someone to look at..."

"Tell your Marines to keep the drooling to a minimum. I'll look for the Colonel."

Evan snorted, but before he could respond, the half-dressed man who had led them in returned for them. Apparently, Ashira was ready to see them. The court, if anything, was even more, well, sensuous, than the waiting area had been. It practically reeked of sex.

"Welcome, friends," a man said—Ashira, Lorne assumed—gesturing them in. "What brings you to my domain?"

They stepped forward, and Evan tried not to look at the slave draped over the man's lap. "We are traders, sir, looking for allies against the Wraith, and friends we can form a mutually beneficial relationship with." It was part of the standard boilerplate meet-and-greet speech all off-world teams had to memorize.

"Wonderful! Wonderful. While I have not had many issues with the Wraith in recent years, they are a scourge, aren't they?"

"Yes sir, although we have enjoyed some success against them. It is our hope that, by banding together and sharing information and resources, we can find a way to eliminate the problem altogether. They have the advantage right now, keeping us all broken apart, no one group able to advance far enough to pose a threat. But if we all work together..."

"Yes, yes," he said, waving off Evan. "Those are distasteful things to speak about before we even know each other. Sit, relax. I shall have some refreshments brought in so we can speak more informally." Ashira's hand was petting the slave who was more or less humping and nuzzling his leg.

Evan gave a short bow. "Yes, sir, and I apologize for jumping the gun. We find that even though our intentions are good, we don't always get the time for pleasantries when meeting new potential friends. We've learned to come to the point quickly, in the hopes that it will facilitate discussion. I'm sorry if we offended you." The slave shifted slightly, and more of his body came into view, as well as part of his profile, although Evan was focused on Ashira.

"Understandable. You are military men," Ashira said, pressing a fruit to the slave's mouth.

David stiffened beside him. "Fuck," he whispered.

Evan glanced over quickly, seeing Parrish's eyes were wide. "David?"

"We…ah…" he turned to Ashira. "Can we have a minute?"

The sultan-king-whatever he was raised an eyebrow, lips quirking slightly. He waved the hand not buried in his slave's hair. "Of course."  
  
Evan allowed David to pull him slightly to the side. "What's wrong?"

"That's Sheppard."

Evan felt his own eyes go wide. "Where?"

"The one with his face in Ashira's lap."

Evan couldn't not look to save his life. He really looked at the slave for the first time. Oh. My. God. "Fuck..."

"That's what I said," David hissed, tugging Evan around again. "On the bright side, we've found him."

Licking his lips, Lorne nodded. Oh, this just got a lot more complicated. "He's obviously been drugged or something..." Sheppard's mouth had been open, panting, and it was very, very obvious he was more than a little aroused. Evan was not seeing this. His commanding officer was not a walking advertisement for sex, almost begging an alien sultan to fuck him. It just wasn't—

"Lorne," David said, tugging at his arm. "We have to get him out of here."

He snapped out of it, nodding sharply. They had always counted on Sheppard, when they found him, being more or less in his right mind, if a little...abused. This... they needed to get Beckett here, and Weir, ASAP. He knew he was out of his league. But the man seemed honorable, so at least he could break the ice on the topic, so to speak.

He moved back to the dais, this time unable to take his eyes off Sheppard. "Ah, sorry about that. Something just…took us by surprise." He took a deep breath, and gestured to Sheppard. "Several of our people were ambushed by slavers when they came through the Ring of the Ancestors several weeks ago, and sold in an open market. We've managed to find two of the four and negotiate their release, but two were still missing. Until now. That is Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, one of our missing men."

While expecting the anger, it still startled him—especially the vehemence. "What are you insinuating? That I would purchase a slave illegally? You come here pretending to be friends only to steal my slaves from me?"

"No! No, that's not it at all!" His eyes went wide as Sheppard whimpered, his body suddenly going tense. "From what we've been able to piece together, the slaver, Hadrious, is the one who was in the wrong. He was the one who broke your rules and laws. We obviously want to get our people back, but we aren't here to make enemies. We will reimburse you for the cost, negotiate a deal."

Ashira settled slightly, but the anger was still there. He pet Sheppard's head, leaning down to speak quietly to him before turning his attention back to the court. Whatever he said, settled the Colonel, which made Lorne worry even more. "I have done business with Hadrious for years. He has good merchandise."

Evan had to stifle the urge to bristle at someone referring to Sheppard as merchandise. But he wasn't here to change a culture, just get his people back. "Be that as it may, as I understand it, slaves are only permitted to be taken from certain worlds, and at certain times, correct? In this case, Sheppard and his team were coming here for the same reasons I told you at the beginning. Only they were caught in a trap before they arrived."

"That is hardly likely."

"I have a photo, of the Colonel and his team, taken not long ago. Would you be willing to look at it?"

"A photo?"

"We have devices called cameras that can capture a moment in time, an image of it. It's like a painting, only it happens instantaneously." Lorne pulled out the shot of Sheppard and his team, handing it over.

Ashira looked it over carefully, holding it closer and then further away. He finally handed it back. "It could be anyone."

Lorne shook his head. "You know that's not true. It's John Sheppard." He pointed at his CO, who now that he was a bit closer, he realized was humming softly as he rubbed his face against Ashira's leg.

"This slave is named Jita and was purchased through the slave market. If you have issues with it, you need to take it up with Hadrious."

"And we will, believe me. But that doesn't change the fact that we need him back. He plays an important role in our society. I wasn't joking before when I said we are trying to find allies to fight against the Wraith. And this man, John Sheppard, is a big reason we're winning the war overall. We need him."

They went round and round and round for the majority of the afternoon, Lorne trying not to watch his commanding officer, but it was hard—Sheppard was hard and panting into every one of Ashira's touches. David managed to poke him or elbow him throughout the afternoon, breaking his obvious staring.

But it was hard. Several times Ashira fed him more pieces of that fruit, and after each time, his whole body seemed to relax, and he just got harder. Evan really didn't ever need to know what Sheppard looked like when he was so aroused he was leaking. Several times, he nipped almost playfully at Ashira's fingers, causing the man, at one point to look down at him with a smile that was more than a little affectionate, making Sheppard purr. God. Damn. It.

Finally, he knew pushing this further was only going to hurt their chances, as much as it pained him to realize he wasn't going to get Sheppard free today, now. "Look, I'm not the leader of our people. That title goes to Doctor Elizabeth Weir. Would you give us a chance to prove we aren't lying, aren't trying to scam you or steal from you? Let me call for Doctor Weir, and for the Colonel's physician, Doctor Carson Beckett. They can be here first thing tomorrow morning."

"Why should I do this?"

"Because you seem like an honorable man. I might not agree with all your customs, but the fact that your first response was anger that we were accusing you of wrongdoing is a good indication of your character. If we can't prove he is who we say he is, we'll walk away. But give us the chance. Hear us out."

Ashira looked at him for a long moment and Lorne held his gaze, not wanting to back down until he did. They were bringing Sheppard home. Ashira needed to see his determination.

He finally nodded. "Fine. Bring your leader, your doctor. I will speak with them." He leaned down, tugging Jita—Sheppard—up. "Tomorrow then." And then he was kissing Sheppard. In front of everyone. On the lips. Hard.

And Sheppard was moaning, arching into it, his entire body responding. When Ashira broke this kiss, Sheppard whined softly, and was panting again, hard. Lorne just swallowed. Oh, this was so something he never, ever needed to see. He knew Sheppard was fucking hot, he didn't need the proof! He wasn't even interested in the man that way!

When Ashira finally pulled back, he smiled warmly at Jita, tugging him to his feet, holding him close. "Come, I have had enough of the court this day. Let us take dinner in my rooms and enjoy ourselves this night."

"Oh yes…" It was the first time Sheppard had said anything, and Evan was immediately concerned all over again. His voice was breathy, his speech—not slurred, but not the crisp enunciation he was used to. It wasn't even the lazy drawl Sheppard broke out to annoy people. Ashira gave him yet another piece of that fruit, making Sheppard moan and sway. Evan could see that he was trembling. He was going to fucking kill that slaver.

David held onto his arm as Ashira and Jita—Lorne couldn't think of that…slave as Sheppard—walked out of the court. "Evan, no."

"He's going to... He's using.... God fucking damn it all to hell." He clenched his fists hard, but didn't do anything that would screw up their chances of resolving this without a fight.

David's voice was quiet, knowing. "He has been."

"I know." He ground his teeth together. "Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. We need to get on the radio and alert Atlantis. I want Ronon, Teyla, Weir, and Beckett here as soon as humanly possible."

"Tomorrow, Evan. We're coming back in the morning," David said, his hand on Lorne's arm as he guided them out of the complex.

He focused on his anger, because otherwise he would keep seeing Sheppard—Jita—whatever, fuck—head thrown back and moaning, begging to be fucked with every pore in his body. Yeah, not going there. They made it back to the jumper, and he recalled the teams, then opened a connection with Atlantis when the city dialed in for a check-in. "Atlantis, this is Lorne. I have good news and bad news."

"Major?" Weir's voice was curious, hopeful.

"Doctor Weir, I'm going to need you and Doctor Beckett to gear up and be ready to step through the gate for a rendezvous as soon as possible. I'll brief you fully when you get here, ma'am, but we do have an...appointment set for you first thing tomorrow morning."

"Major," she began, hesitantly. "I think you need to report back to Atlantis and report in. I don't want to do this over an open channel."

He cursed silently, not wanting to leave the area with Sheppard so close, but he knew he didn't have much choice, and there wasn't much he could do right now. He got the jumper in the air. "Yes, ma'am. We're on our way to the gate now. We'll dial back through, and be ready to brief you on arrival."

"Doctor Beckett and I will be waiting for you. Atlantis, out."

He made it back in record time, telling the other two teams to be at the alert and stay on the planet. When they arrived back at the city, he docked the jumper and almost ran to the briefing room. When he sat down, he was almost surprised to see David sliding into the seat next to him. "We found Sheppard."

Weir's expression brightened momentarily before she clamped down on her emotions, obviously feeling the angry undercurrent. "There's a big 'but' coming, isn't there? Is he alive?"

He couldn't sit still, so he rose again, pacing the small room. "Oh, he's alive. He's....he's a f…. sex toy. They kept feeding him something, and he was completely oblivious to anything except...except his arousal, and his... master."

He could hear Weir's in-drawn breath, but it was Beckett who responded. "Drugged?"

"I don't know what it was. It looked like some sort of fruit. He was given several while we were there, and right after each time you could tell he was...more aroused, less tense. I'm willing to bet that's the culprit."

"Drugs we can deal with. It's death we have an issue with. Otherwise he looked…well?"

Lorne ran a hand through his hair and kept pacing. "Yes. Mostly. I mean, he seemed...okay. He was dressed as one of the slaves, which is to say, not really at all. But he didn't have any injuries that I could see. He was... it was... no man should ever have to see his commanding officer begging to be..."

"Evan."

"Major."

The two simultaneous comments stopped him in his tracks, Parrish continuing at Elizabeth's nod. "While I agree with the Major's observation, we need to focus on how we plan on getting him out of there—the sooner the better. Ashira is not going to give him up without a fight. He's agreed to let you and Doctor Beckett speak with them. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage?"

Evan took a deep breath and moved back to his seat. "While their culture isn't ours, Ashira doesn't strike me as a bad person. He didn't immediately toss us out or have guards pull weapons on us. If we can prove Sheppard is who we say he is... While it won't be willingly, I do think he would let him go."

"Did he recognize you?" Beckett asked.

"He didn't even know we were there. I don't think he looked in our direction the entire time. He was totally focused on Ashira."

Beckett sighed, shaking his head. "I willna know anything more until I can examine him to see if it's a drug or something else. Do you think they'd be willing to allow that?"

"Possibly. I did mention that Doctor Weir, as our leader, and you, as Sheppard's physician, would be joining us. I'd also like to get Teyla and Ronon there, just in case this does turn into a forced extraction."

Weir shook her head. "The less people the better. We don't want to be intimidating."

He sighed. "All right. But they will be in cloaked jumpers nearby at all times. Both teams still on the planet will be. Oh, and you should know that they call Sheppard 'Jita' there. He seemed to respond to it."

"Renaming individuals is common in cultures like that. It breaks the person from an old life and helps settle them into a new one," Weir said with a nod. "I'll need your written reports ASAP to help me prepare for the morning. Make sure it includes everything—observations, thoughts, everything."

"You'll have them. With your permission, ma'am, I'd like to get started on that now. I want to return to the planet well in advance of the meeting tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what time they consider 'early' there. I want us in the court at daybreak, to make sure they don't accidentally forget about the meeting, or schedule something else. I don't know that Ashira would pull something like that, but better safe than sorry, right?"

"Then we'll make sure we leave early. There's no reason to stay planet-side. There's nothing we can do until the morning."

He was frustrated, and knew it showed. But he couldn't help it. He knew what they were doing to Sheppard right now. And it didn't matter that the man was so doped up he thought he wanted it—it still didn't make it right.

"Major, will that be a problem?" Weir's voice was tight.

"No, ma'am." He sighed. "I want to get him out of there as soon as possible."

"And we will. You made the first steps."

"We found him. Now it's up to you to bring him home."

"Do you doubt the persuasive power of a woman, Major?" Weir asked as he stood, a hint of a smile on her face.

"Not at all, ma'am." He smiled a little. "And with your permission, I'll start on that report. I don't want to miss anything, and I'll need to have it done in time to let you actually read it."

"Sounds good," she said nodding. "Good job."

He rose and went back to his office, working into the night to get down every thought or observation he could remember, before sending it to Weir. David just held him once he made it to bed, seeming to understand that Evan was tightly wound right now.

The next morning they were all up early, loading the jumpers and, almost before he knew it, they were back at Ashira's court, mostly naked slaves everywhere again. Beckett and Weir, despite the warnings, seemed a little shocked.

They cooled their heels for a bit, told Ashira had not yet emerged from his bed. Knowing Sheppard was probably still with him just made Lorne antsy again. But finally, the ruler appeared. Instead of convening a full court, they were lead to a smaller version of the room, with fewer people.

Just a few guards and two men who looked like functionaries of some sort. The team was all given chairs as well. When everyone was comfortable, Lorne introduced Weir and Beckett.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he said, bowing over Weir's hand. "It is not often that such a beautiful woman is a leader of men."

She smiled, a diplomat's smile, Lorne noticed. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate both the compliment and your willingness to speak with me. I understand this is a somewhat difficult position for both of us."

"Your men accuse me of purchasing stolen property."

"And I apologize for that. They did not mean to give offense, they were merely surprised. We've been searching for Colonel Sheppard, and one other missing member of his team, for several weeks now. As a matter of fact, Major Lorne went to great pains to point out to me that he believes you are a very honorable man, and as much a victim here as we are."

"I'm listening."

"I know that the Major explained to you what we were able to piece together. Two of the Colonel's missing team members have been found, and they were able to give us quite a bit of detail. If you would like, I can have them join us later, to hear their first-hand account of events. Or course, we will need to verify that your slave...I believe Major Lorne said you call him 'Jita' is in fact our Colonel Sheppard. If he is not, then obviously we will not try to remove him from your court."

"That is…wise. How do you intend to do this? Major Lorne provided a…photo yesterday, but that is hardly enough to provide proof. Many slaves look alike."

"Well, we brought additional photos, to help establish it. And, if you'll permit it, we would like to have Doctor Beckett talk to Jita, and examine him. He would like to ask a few questions to see if...Jita...can remember anything, and do a simple physical evaluation, including drawing a small amount of his blood. We are hoping that will tell us one way or the other."

"And if it does?"

"Well, then we'll have to see if we can't find a solution that will satisfy us both. If he is the Colonel, we need him home badly. His skills and expertise are highly valued. I understand that you also place a high value on him, so we will have to negotiate."

Ashira was silent for a moment before he gestured to one of the attendants. "Silas, see that Jita is prepared." The man, Silas, nodded and left as Ashira turned back to Weir. "I will only permit one of you to see him or touch him."

She nodded. "That is fair. I'd like to have Doctor Beckett to do so. He is the most qualified among us to make the determination as to Jita's identify."

"Your…Colonel's physician?"

"Yes. And his friend. Doctor Beckett has been treating Colonel Sheppard for quite some time now, and will be able to identify him on sight based on known defects, such as scars. He is also the one who examines our blood, to determine if it matches known samples we have on file of all of our people."

Ashira nodded. "I will have to ask for your patience. Jita was most likely sleeping and I am reluctant to wake him early. He was up for most of the night."

Lorne twitched, but didn't say anything. Weir merely nodded. "Of course. We don't want to make this any harder for you—or him—than necessary."

"Of that, I am appreciative."

They were fed a light meal, and waited until early afternoon, before one of the administrators—the second one—came back from duties somewhere. He murmured something in Ashira's ear.

"Thank you, Jacquil." Ashira turned to Beckett as he rose. "Doctor, if you will follow me, Jita is prepared to receive visitors."

"Of course." Beckett rose and quickly followed them out of the room. Lorne fidgeted as they waited for him to come back.

They had been left alone apart from a single guard—attendant—at the door. Weir had walked around the room, examining the artwork and ceramic vases, silent except for an occasional hum of appreciation.

When the doors opened again, what felt like hours later, Beckett came through looking torn between crying and hitting something. "Doc?"

"It's him alright," he said finally. "And I don't need a bloody blood test to be certain. He doesna remember much, but he recognized Rodney's picture. He's very confused. He responded when I called him by his given name, but was very uncertain. I have samples of the pria he's been given, but I have a good idea what it is and what it does."

Elizabeth put a hand on his arm. "How was he? How bad is it?"

"He's in good health…probably the healthiest I've seen him in a while, apart from the obvious drug addiction." He sighed. "I'd like to get him back as soon as we can. He might have information about Rodney but we won't be able to get it out of him until he's drug-free."

Before he could say more, the doors opened again, and Ashira rejoined them, looking very troubled. Elizabeth turned to face him. "Doctor Beckett was just telling us how the meeting went."

"Jita was most…unsettled. Who was the man in the photo?"

Weir hesitated for only a moment. Fortunately, Lorne had decided to leave half his team at the jumper, just in case. So there was no one here who didn't already know about Sheppard and McKay. "The man is Rodney McKay. He and John are...mates."

Ashira nodded, settling down once again.

Weir leaned forward in her seat. "What else do we need to do to convince you that he is the man we seek? Did you purchase him directly?"

Ashira gave them a long look. "I will have to think on this. You have given me much to consider. However, I have other matters that I must attend to. You are welcome to join my court for the afternoon—Jita will be brought to me there, although he does not usually attend every day."

"Please, wait. Did you purchase him directly or did you use a buyer?"

"Jacquil handles the purchasing of my slaves, including Jita. He is...comforting and preparing Jita for court, settling him. However, I will make him available to you tomorrow morning, for your questions."

Weir nodded, finally settling back in her chair. "I appreciate your time and patience. I look forward to speaking with you again tomorrow."

He nodded, rising to go out another door, leaving a guard/guide to bring them to court or escort them out, whichever they preferred.

Standing once again, Weir sighed, glancing between the other three members. "Thoughts? I know I don't have any…desire to see Colonel Sheppard in court."

Beckett sighed. "Neither do I, but I think it might be helpful. He was...begging...for their pria in the meeting, and was promised he would be given some afterwards. I have to assume I saw him on a lower dose, so seeing how it affects him more directly could be useful for treatment later."

Weir interrupted. "I also don't think Colonel Sheppard would appreciate us staring at him just to 'see what he's like while he's drugged'. We have Major Lorne's report and you have your samples. That's sufficient."

He shook his head. "I don't want to go for the titillation factor—you know me better than that. From what I can tell, this pria is highly addictive. Which means John is going to have a rough few weeks, at least, of detox when we get him back. The Major's report is fine for some things, but I'll catch things he wouldn't. Things that could help me find ways to ease the Colonel through withdrawal."

Weir, though, was shaking her head. "No, Carson. Find another way. We need to go home and plan our strategy for tomorrow."

"I'm worried about him too, Elizabeth. And if you don't think all of us need to go, that's fine. But I need to see him again. This is probably my only chance to observe how the drug works in his system in large quantities, and that's information I need first hand. I don't want to insist, since I've already seen enough, but I'm afraid I have to, as CMO."

"And I will not leave you here, Carson."

"Then we're all going to have to go to court."

"No." She shook her head.

"Elizabeth, you've known me for a long time. Have I ever told you I needed something on medical grounds for my own amusement? It pains me to see him like that, more than you can know. But he was fairly alert, if confused and fuzzy, when I talked to him. Nothing at all like what Major Lorne described. It's possible there is more than one drug involved, but probably not. Instead, it means it affects him differently as he gets more in his system. I can't treat him effectively later unless I have all the facts now."

"No, Carson. I'm sorry. I can't allow this. Not now. Major Lorne, let's go home."

"Are you relieving me of my post then?" Beckett didn't move, and his expression was kind, but firm. "Because unless you are, then I will be staying to do my job, even though it might be distasteful at the moment."

"I should."

"Because I want to make sure I can help him? Withdrawal is a funny thing. The more I know about how the drug actually affects him, the better I'll be able to help him through it later. I don't like it, but I dinna have much choice."

Weir was oddly tense, even more so than before. "I know exactly how withdrawal works, Carson. I don't need a lecture from you about it."

He moved to put a hand on her shoulder. "I know this is'na pleasant. And we don't need to stay long. I just need to observe him a bit on the higher dose. Give me half an hour—anything I can't get in that time, I'll do without."

Weir was shaking her head, but David stepped in. "I'll wait with you in the hallway if you want, Doctor Weir."

Lorne nodded. "I've, ah, already seen the Colonel, so I won't be adding anything new to the ordeal for him later. I'll go in with Doctor Beckett."

She was silent for a long moment before nodding stiffly.

They walked to the court, Parrish and Weir waiting outside, Lorne walking in with Beckett to take up a position along the wall to wait.

Ashira entered, and business began, but so far no Sheppard. Without his drugged commander to distract him, Evan had to admit Ashira was actually not a bad ruler. He was fair with his people, and they seemed to think highly of him, at least from what Evan could tell. There wasn't an undercurrent of dissatisfaction, at any rate.

Evan jumped a little when a hand touched his elbow. David. "Aren't you supposed to be with Weir?"

"She asked me to walk in and tell you your thirty minutes are up."

"Sheppard isn't here yet."

"She was pretty adamant."

Lorne finally nodded, slowly, but before he could say anything else, Beckett was sucking in a breath next to him. From a side door, the two attendants were leading in Sheppard—Silas and Jacquil he thought their names were. Like last night, his eyes were glazed, his body aroused. He glanced at them briefly as he walked by, a faint flicker of something, but it was gone even before he turned away.

Ashira held out a hand and Sheppard —Jita—was wrapping himself around the ruler, rubbing against him and moaning when Ashira caressed him. Closing his eyes, Lorne turned his head and touched Beckett's arm. "Time to go, Doc. Weir wants us."

"Just…five minutes."

Lorne swallowed hard, but looked at David instead of the raised platform where Ashira was settling Sheppard. "Tell her we'll be there in five. That Sheppard just came in."

The botanist wasn't happy, but he nodded, moving on silent feet back into the hallway.

Lorne counted the seconds on his watch. Beckett made several unhappy noises, but he did watch the scene play out. When the five minutes were up, he touched the doctor's arm. "Time to go, Doc. Let's go figure out how we're getting him out of here."

"We need to," Beckett said with a grim smile. "Withdrawal is going to be a bloody disaster. I need to get the infirmary set up."

Evan nodded as they stepped out into the hall. "As out of it as he is, I don't doubt it. If there's anything you need to make it easier for him, let me know, and I'll make sure you get it."

"Time machine?"

"I'll put Zelenka to work on it."

"As long as it works better than his still," Beckett said as they stopped next to Weir and David.

Evan took in Weir's pinched expression, and moved to head off any explosions. "Sheppard didn't arrive until right after David walked in. Beckett got what he needed, so let's head home and plot ways to bring our military commander home."

She nodded darkly, following behind David as they lead them out, Lorne keeping an eye on their six.

No one tried to stop them. They made it to the jumper and checked in with the others without a hassle. He ran through a quick preflight before taking them up, heading for home. It was going to be a long night; planning for every contingency and counter argument anyone could come up with.

But one thing was sure. They were going to get Sheppard back and make sure Hadrious got his come-uppance in return.

***

The next few days were more or less uneventful. He was still given the drug twice a day, but for some reason Kolya was nowhere to be found.

No one would tell him anything and he was reluctant to ask a third time—especially since the guards threatened a beating if he asked again.

He managed to walk the two scientists through very basic scientific theory in the course of those few days. They would never be nuclear physicists, but they just might be able to make a small working nuke—in about five years.

He'd been allowed to wear the drawstring pants and lab coat when he was working, but the guards wouldn't let him leave with it—and there wasn't exactly anywhere he could hide it from them.

He was tired and cold and cranky all the time. Besides being given just enough food to keep him going, he had had no caffeine or caffeine-related products in days…weeks—he'd lost track—and had absolutely no privacy.

He wasn't expecting it when the routine changed suddenly, four days after Kolya had disappeared, just when he had started to think he had a handle on things. Instead of being led back to his cell after working in the lab, he was led into Kolya's office. "Ah, Rodney. Sit down." He sounded...dangerous.

Without a shove from the guard, he sat. "Decided to come back, I see."

Kolya nodded for the guard to leave, then backhanded Rodney across the face. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

He scowled at the man. "Wasn't an opinion. Statement."

Kolya hit him again, harder this time.

Rocking back in the chair, Rodney lifted his hand, wiping away the trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. He looked up at Kolya with wide eyes, the panic that had faded away coming back full force.

"Much better." Kolya's eyes glittered. "You've now had nearly two weeks, and there is no progress. Why? You may speak, but only to answer the question."

"We made progress. Your scientists won't accidentally blow up your underground hideaway because they finally grasp the concept of a nuclear device."

"And yet, there is no device. Why is that?"

"Because you don't give the keys to the car to a two year old just because he wants to play."

This time the blow was a fist to his stomach. "Wrong answer."

Rodney coughed weakly, curling over in pain as he tried to catch his breath. "Scientists aren't ready," he finally managed to say after about a minute, his panic level on the rise.

Another blow. "Again, wrong answer."

He nearly tumbled from the chair this time, but managed to catch himself before he tipped over. He curled his arms around his middle, trying to make the pain go away.

"I think you are stalling. You've taken my patience thus far to mean you can take advantage of the situation. I'm afraid that isn't the case. Why don't I have at least the schematics for a nuclear device? I know you already have them in your head."

"Because your scientists were not ready for them. Don't even have the materials."

Kolya managed to get in a shot to his side, where he wasn't protected. "I didn't ask you to evaluate their readiness. You are here to produce a weapon."

He whimpered. He needed Kolya to stop. Submit and he would. It worked before; it would work again. He'd curb his tongue—or at least try. He didn't want to be hurt. Hated pain. "Please…please stop…"

"By the end of the day tomorrow, you will have schematics and a materials list ready for me. If you don't, you will look back upon this evening's lesson with fondness." Kolya banged a fist on the wall, making Rodney jump and a guard come in. "See to him."

They dragged him to the labs and withheld his clothes. The other scientists were nowhere to be found and all he had was paper, a pen, some small rulers and a glass of water and bowl of oatmeal.

Lunch was the same.

And so was dinner.

The guards just glared at him when he asked if he could go back to his room to sleep, so he picked a spot on the floor when his eye kept closing, managing to sleep a little before he was woken up again.

They gave him the barest amount of food and made sure he was pumped full of their drugs, but otherwise he saw no one, talked to no one.

He was scared.

When he guessed it was about twenty-four hours later, the guards gathered up everything he had done and once more escorted him to Kolya's office. He was pushed back into the chair in the middle of the room and ordered to not so much as twitch while Kolya read his work. Finally, the commander started to circle him. "You feel this is adequate? You may speak."

"Yes."

Instead of a fist, this time it was cold metal against his skin, not quite pushing through skin, but the threat was there, and the order not to move kept him motionless, unable to flinch away. "It is not complete. Incomplete lists are not what I require."

Oh god, oh god oh god! Kolya wasn't happy. He hadn't done enough. But he'd almost completed everything he'd asked. But it wasn't enough. Oh god. "I was finishing up," he whispered. "Was almost done."

"Not good enough. When I tell you to have something ready by a specific time, you will have it ready." The knife pressed into his shoulder, and he could feel the faint trail of blood from the shallow cut dripping down his back.

Rodney whimpered, his breath catching in his throat. Oh god, Oh god. Please stop, please stop. "Didn't have enough time."

The knife cut into his thigh this time. "Again with the wrong answers, Doctor McKay."

His eyes were clenched tightly together as he tried not to panic. He couldn't move because of that order, forced to just sit there and take everything. He knew he whimpered again, more than once, before he whispered an apology. It was the only thing he could do. Submit to Kolya and the pain would stop.

Kolya patted his cheek. "I know you're sorry, Rodney. And you will do better to please me next time, won't you?"

It took a few beats before he was nodding, holding back a sob, another piece of his soul, or his pride, escaping.

"I am not unreasonable, Rodney. You have until tomorrow to finish this. And in addition, you will fill in some of the details on these schematics. They are simple, and I know a weapon cannot be built unless and until we flesh it out. Do not disappoint me again."

He nodded, taking a breath when he felt Kolya step away. "Sleep…I need to sleep," he whispered, begging, pleading. "Please. Can I sleep?"

"You can sleep after you have completed your assignment. Had you done so today, you would have been allowed rest now. But since you did not, you are returning to the lab to continue. If you do better tomorrow, you will be allowed to rest."

"Don't want to make mistakes," he whispered, staring up at Kolya with wide-open eyes, pleading with him.

Kolya's face was impassive. "If you do, you will be punished."

"I need to sleep. Please. Just a little while. It will help me work better, faster."

Kolya's eyes glittered. "All right, Rodney. You may sleep, but you will still be in that chair again in one day, and you will be punished severely if you have not provided me with what I have asked. If you choose to use what little time you have sleeping, I will allow it."

Rodney nodded, miserable and scared. The guards dragged him away, returning him to the lab with his papers. With some water from the bathroom sink, he cleaned the wounds as best he could, but it took a little while before they clotted. He worked a little longer on the project before taking a nap, only to be shaken awake by a guard and told he was sleeping long enough.

Bleary-eyed he returned to the papers, trying to remember everything, trying to make sure everything was in place.

Before he was done, before he was ready, a guard was roughly gathering up his papers.

"Nononono. Five more minutes. Please," he begged.

Another guard grabbed him roughly, steering him towards the door, a barked order forcing him to comply

He obeyed, but struggled the entire way, the pen clenched in his hand.

He didn't see Kolya when he was brought in, once more ordered into complete stillness after the pen was taken from his hand. He was able to pick up the faint crackle of paper now and then, but otherwise—nothing.

Trying to hold back a whimper, his panic was beginning to skyrocket. Oh god, oh god oh god.

Kolya was like a cat, and without the ability to move, he had no peripheral vision. So the very hot breath against his neck scared a year off his life. But Kolya still didn't say anything.

This time Rodney did whimper.

A scrap of fabric suddenly blacked out his vision, and a gag took away even the option of begging. And still Kolya said nothing.

Rodney was trembling now, frozen in place, totally alone. His mind was spinning in place, chanting 'oh god oh god oh god' as he slowly began to panic. The large gag made it difficult to breathe and breathing was important and oh god he was going to get raped and maimed and…and….

The voice, when it did come, was soft, whispered into his ear. "You will not sleep, will not move, will not so much as twitch until you are given permission."

Rodney whimpered, the sound lodging in his throat.

But Kolya had disappeared again, although he was still there by the occasional faint noises in the room.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that—blindfolded, gagged, and completely still—but he didn't fall asleep, couldn't fall asleep even though he wanted to. At one point a needle was pressed to his arm, his injection. It had to be dinnertime. Or around dinnertime. Which meant lunch was hours ago. Hours since he had been sitting still and silent.

After what seemed like hours more, he was pulled to his feet, a curt command to remain completely still.

His limbs were stiff, knees threatening to buckle, but he stayed in place, his panic beginning anew.

The deep cold of metal suddenly brushed across his entrance. "The next time you displease me, you will be raped."

Every muscle tensed and he whined—loudly and high-pitched. No. Nononononono.

"Remember that next time you do not provide what I have requested." The blindfold and gag both came off. "Return to your cell. Eat your dinner and sleep. Tomorrow you will have a new assignment."

Rodney knew his eyes were wide—even with all the blinking he was doing to get then adjusted to the light. He nodded silently, emphatically, his body still trembling as the guards led him from Kolya's office and to his cell. He ate his dinner quickly, efficiently before rolling into bed, tugging the blanket tightly around him. He huddled under the thin fabric, letting his panic and fear bubble to the surface.

Alone. All alone. Trembling and shaking, he fell into a restless sleep.

The door banged open earlier than usual, the guard practically shoving breakfast down his throat before he was hauled out again, towards Kolya's office.

He knew better than to ask what was happening, what Kolya wanted. He'd find out soon enough—for better or worse. Instead, he just tried to put one foot in front of the other, trying not to trip over himself in the process.

Kolya was waiting for him, impassive as always. "Doctor McKay. So good of you to join me. I have my men out pursuing the list you provided. Today you will take the rough schematics, and you will begin to convert them into a blueprint. By the end of the day, you will have shown progress."

"What…how much progress?" he asked, his voice rough. There was no point in arguing, in protesting. He would do as Kolya asked.

"Work hard, Rodney. I will decide if I think you have done enough tonight."

Rodney knew his eyes were wide, his arms hugging his middle as he tried to hide the tremor of his hands. He nodded, the movement jerky. He would obey. He would work. He would submit. Maybe tonight Kolya would be pleased with what he did. Maybe tonight he would remain safe—but only if Kolya was happy with him.

Kolya smirked. "Go."

He walked beside the guards this time, his head down, disgusted by his compliance, his submission, his fear. He worked under the watchful eye of the guards, pausing only long enough to get his morning dose of the drug, pee a few times, and eat his lunch—the rough, tasteless gruel he was being served.

Over all of it, Kolya's threat echoed in the back of his mind. Perform, or be violated. Used.

The last time that happened he'd been drugged and it had only been a blowjob. This would be worse…much worse.

The guards eventually gathered up his work and started walking him down the hall.

By the time he reached Kolya's office he was nearly vibrating with worry and fear.

"Sit."

"I did the best I could," he said quietly as he complied.

"Did I ask your opinion?"

"No, but I wanted you to know—"

"Stop talking."

Rodney's mouth clamped shut and he sat, staring up at Kolya with wide eyes.

Kolya flipped through the pages he had provided, soundlessly.

Shifting in the chair, Rodney simply watched, unable to do anything else. Well, there was panicking, but he was trying to keep that under control, trying not to think about rape…about him getting raped.

"You have earned yourself a reprieve for tonight, Rodney. Excellent." Kolya seemed to absently pick a piece of real food, pressing it against Rodney's lips.

Relief coursed through his body and he instinctively opened his mouth, letting Kolya feed him, nearly moaning at the taste. So good.

Kolya glanced up, lips turned slightly up. "You see, Rodney, obedience doesn't just bring relief from punishment, it brings rewards." He pressed another morsel into Rodney's waiting mouth.

Rodney chewed it slowly, his stomach more used to tasteless oatmeal than flavored meat. He didn't want to throw it up. But it tasted so good.

Kolya fed him slowly, alternating some mild cheeses and bits of bread with the meat.

Somewhere in the middle he was moaning softly, his eyes closed as he concentrated on the flavors in his mouth, his taste buds reawakening.

Between bites, Kolya started to touch him, pet him, with soft caresses to his face and body.

John. John used to do this to him. Make him feel so good. He felt himself relaxing, his senses reawakened, the terror and panic flying from his mind even as the small voice in the back of his head protested.

But it was quieting.

"Very good, Rodney." Kolya murmured, feeding him the last of the food. "I know you must be very tired, and you have worked hard today. Go get some rest, and I will give you a new assignment tomorrow."

He nodded, still under the order of silence, pleased that he hadn't gotten beaten, that he'd saved himself from injury, that he'd proven himself. The guards returned, walking with him to his cell, watching him as he crawled into his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the mattress.

The next morning, the clothes were back, appearing with his breakfast before he was collected for Kolya.

He tugged them on quickly, pausing to let the doctor give him his injection and check the nipple rings, adding a little cream before gesturing to the breakfast tray. Rodney ate under the guard's watchful eye, using the facilities to try and clean up a little before they brought him to Kolya. He wanted to shave so badly, but he didn't want to ask. He'd deal with the beard.

When he arrived, the chair was waiting for him, as was Kolya, who looked him over carefully.

He paused in the door. "Where…" he began, only to clear his throat. "Where do you want me?"

Kolya tipped his head at the chair. "Have a seat, Doctor McKay. Tell me, how did you enjoy your accommodations last night?"

"Good…they are fine…good," he said, stumbling a little at the words as he sat down, tilting his head up so he could look at Kolya. "Why?"

"You pleased me yesterday, so you were rewarded. Does it surprise you that I wished to make sure your reward was comfortable?"

"But…I've slept there before," he replied, confused.

"But not on a full stomach, with the room warmed to a more...comfortable...temperature." Kolya stepped forward and ran his hands through Rodney's facial hair.

Rodney kept his head still, letting Kolya touch him without ordering him to be still. "It was warm…" he said slowly.

"Yes, it was. And this? I remember you were clean-shaven when I saw you last. Would you like the opportunity to shave?"

"It…it grows and…and yes. I'd like to shave. It's itchy."

Kolya chuckled. "Please me with your progress again today, and you will be allowed to remove it."

"And shower?"

"That depends on how well you please me, Rodney. Work hard today." Kolya caressed him again, before nodding to a guard to escort him out.

Halfway to the door, Rodney turned, panic slicing through him. He didn't have an assignment. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. "Wait. Please. What…what am I supposed to do?"

"Continue your work from the past several days. I want to be ready to begin building a prototype when my men return with all the necessary materials."

Prototype? Oh, god. No…nonononono. "No," he said stepping back toward Kolya. "You can't just start building it right away. You have to check every single part and supply to make sure it's right. If it's off by just the smallest amount you could blow up the lab or give yourself a horrible dose of radiation poisoning…or…or a million other things. You can't just start building it—"

Kolya's smile turned predatory. "Then I guess you had better be very productive today, hadn't you, Rodney?"

"It's more than me being productive! You don't understand. It's…your men can't just grab something they think is close enough. Science is exact! It has to be the right material or it won't work."

Kolya had closed the distance between them, one hand wrapping around the back of Rodney's neck as he leaned in, his breath warm in Rodney's ear. "They will get precisely what you asked for. No substitutions, no 'close enough'. They know as well as you do the punishments for disobedience."

"But…" he began, body trembling slightly. "A lot of it isn't easy to get and they might think a small deviation is okay. You don't understand just how important it is that everything is exact."

"I do, Rodney. I demand excellence—from all who serve under me. They know the penalties. As do you. I have indulged you because you were very good yesterday. However, if another protest crosses your lips, you will find yourself being punished again."

"I just don't want to die some horrible death because your men got something wrong…" he whispered, trying to explain.

"Then you had better ensure that does not happen." Nails scraped lightly through the fine hairs on the back of his neck before Kolya pulled away and looked at the guards. "Doctor McKay is ready to go to work."

He didn't protest or say another word as the guards led him back to the lab where he continued working on the blueprints, being as painstakingly careful as possible, needing them to be right. He didn't want to die.

Lunch came and he ate, surprised to find some fruit on the tray in addition to the oatmeal.

He snapped at the guards a few times when they got too close or stood in his light. They just didn't understand. He needed to get this right, exact. He needed Kolya to be pleased with his work.

When it came time to end for the day, he was once more stripped to his skin, his work gathered up.

As he was marched to Kolya's office he swayed somewhere between panic, calm, and a certain disconnection. He'd done what had been asked of him.

Instead of being led into the office, he was held outside for a long time. Finally, the door opened and a young, pale soldier came scurrying out. Rodney was shoved inside, into his usual seat. Kolya himself was sitting at the desk, and he looked furious.

Oh no.

He sat as still as he could, his mouth clamped shut as the guards placed his work for the day on the desk. The panic and worry was starting to return, pooling in his stomach.

Kolya barely glanced at it, his eyes firmly fixed on Rodney.

He swallowed thickly, eyes sliding away from Kolya's gaze.

"Five of my men are dead."

Rodney's first instinct was to say "Good", but he held his tongue, waiting.

"They were retrieving some of the items you specified. Imagine their surprise when they ran into Lantean forces." He practically spit the last few words out.

Rodney felt himself pale. "How was I supposed to know they'd be there? I didn't tell your men where to go. I haven't been home in weeks."

Kolya finally rose, and his eyes had a dangerous expression. Rodney was reminded that no matter how suave he seemed at times, Acastus Kolya was a very unstable man. "You set them up."

"I…no! I didn't. I couldn't have. You asked for a list. I gave you a list. I didn't give you any planets or places to look because I don't know where to look, just what is needed. How was I supposed to know that they'd be…wherever your men ran into them? I've been trapped here with no access to anything except paper and pens and cells. I didn't do anything."

Kolya hit him, hard, in the gut, making him double over in pain. "Lies."

He whimpered and whined, curling over, cradling his stomach. "No, please, no. I didn't lie…I’m not lying. I didn't set them up. Please believe me."

Instead of answering, Kolya hit him again—five times. "I lost good men today. My only consolation is that they killed several Lanteans in the process. And I have you to stand in for the rest."

Rodney kept pleading, begging for him to understand. He didn't do it. He didn't. The pain radiated from each and every punch, the flesh already tender to the touch, a bruise to come shortly from each blow.

But Kolya didn't listen, just continued to beat him. When the blows finally stopped, he had only a few moments of respite before he was hauled to his feet and shoved face-first against a wall, wrists attached to hooks high above his head, legs spread wide and locked in place. He'd forgotten about the cuffs on his body, gotten so accustomed to them locked securely around his limbs.

Sobbing and shaking in pain and fear, Rodney begged. Begged for his life. "Please…please don't kill me. I didn't do it. I didn't set up your men. Please, believe me," he pleaded in between gasps and pants of pain. "Please…please don't. Don't kill me. I'll do whatever you want…don't kill me. Oh please…don't kill me. Please."

"I'm not going to kill you, Rodney. But you will learn never to disobey me, or try to double-cross me, again."

"But I didn't double-cross you. I didn't. I promise I didn't. I couldn't have. Please, no…please don't."

The hiss was his only warning before a whip striped across his back.

He yelped at the sensation, at the pain. "No! Please stop. Please…please stop."

But the flogging continued until he was sobbing, his whole body shaking with the pain ripping through his back. It felt like he had no skin left.

Rodney could feel some of the welts had opened, felt blood dripping down his back from the cuts. But all he could do was take in sobbing gasps of air and close his eyes tightly wishing it would stop, needing it to stop.

When it finally ended, he was only half-conscious, only Kolya's barked orders mid-way through the ordeal keeping him awake. The restraints were unlatched without ceremony, and he wasn't caught as he slid to the ground, Kolya standing over him, scowling. "Mishal, take him to his cell, and see that these are treated. I am not ready for him to die yet."

The guards dragged Rodney, trembling and shaking, to his cell, dropping him face-down onto the bed. Sobbing, he tried to curl away from them, but they tied him down so he couldn't.

And then the doctor came.

And it was worse.

Whatever the hell they put on the cuts and welts hurt and stung and Rodney swore the skin was peeling from his back.

They left him like that, secured to the bed "for his own good", so he "wouldn't injure himself further"—as if he'd done this to himself. Eventually the pain medication they gave him—one small pill that he recognized as being one of Atlantis' in the first place—took the edge off and the tumbled into nightmares and dreams.

He woke the next morning to searing pain, as the doctor rubbed more cream into his back, not bothering to be gentle about it.

He cursed and yelled and called him every bad name and insult he could come up with in several languages, but it didn't stop him from doing his job. The doctor finished, leaving Rodney trembling and sobbing into the mattress from the reawakened pain.

They had jammed an IV in, so he knew he was getting no real food today. After his morning dose of drugs, he was left alone for what felt like hours, only the doctor's rough hands—and no more pain meds—keeping him company.

He managed to drift in and out of sleep, but the urge to urinate became stronger and stronger. He tried to get someone's attention. Begged for someone to listen.

But no one did. No one came. No one released him.

Sobbing in frustration and humiliation, he finally gave into nature, the mattress below him absorbing the fluids he expelled.

"You are very, very lucky I need you alive, Rodney." Kolya's voice was harsh, especially since he hadn't heard the man enter.

Rodney jumped, tugging against the restraints, his back flaring in pain. "I'm sorry….please don't beat me. I'm sorry. I tried to get someone to listen, but no one answered me and I tried to hold it. Held it as long as I could. I'm sorry….so sorry," Rodney begged, turning his head to look at Kolya with wide eyes.

"You think I care about whether or not you soil yourself? You are only useful as long as you are providing me with information. When that ceases, you cease to live."

"Please…don't…no…I’m useful. I am. Please, don't kill me."

At a snap of his fingers, two guards came into the small cell and unlocked the restraints, hauling Rodney up and dumping him at Kolya's feet. "Prove it. You will look at the materials my men acquired, and assess what is missing. When they go to retrieve the rest, if there are any additional ambushes, you will die."

"It wasn't my fault. I don't even know where your men went," Rodney hissed, as he listed to the side, his back one mass of pain. "I didn't do anything. It wasn't my fault."

Kolya casually kicked him, making both the bruises and lash-marks flare anew with pain. "Would you rather I killed you now?"

"No…nononono, please no. But it wasn't me. I didn't do anything. I didn't kill your men." Rodney had to make him see, understand.

Kolya kicked him again, hard, in the groin since he had curved away to protect his sides. Only the fact that he still had the chastity cage to offer some sort of protection prevented permanent damage. "Take him to the labs. I want that list in two hours."

Rodney had curled up—ignoring the pull of muscles in his back—trying to catch his breath and cradle his groin, but the guards simply tugged him upward, dragging him to his destination amid his protests.

When he had been pulled up, the IV had been ripped out, but a loaf of what looked like moldy bread was tossed at his feet around lunch time. They didn't allow him to clean himself off, or return his clothes.

He picked up the bread with shaking hands, picking around the worst spots, pressing small morsels of dough into his mouth as he examined the items Kolya's teams had retrieved. He worked as quickly as he could, shuffling from table to table, as he trembled from the pain and the cold and the fear. Some items were fine, others were not, and they were still missing the most important element—the piece that actually made it a radioactive device.

Kolya was not going to be happy.

He whimpered to himself when he reached the end of the materials collected and realized that half had to be replaced and they were still missing another third.

When his two hours were up, the guards just grabbed him, hauling him back to that hated office. There was a different device there instead of the usual chair—he was forced to his knees, straddling it, his legs spread wide and locked into place.

His hands were locked onto a raised section in the front, and a bar that stuck straight up had a hook, which was clipped to his collar. Oh, this was not good.

Oh god. Oh no. Oh, please no.

"Report." Kolya's voice, combined with the drugs he had been shot up with again just before being dragged in, made him shudder, but obey.

"About half of the items are wrong," he said, already cringing, his voice shaking. "And we're still missing things."

Moving into Rodney's line of sight, Kolya was furious. "I am through being patient with you."

"I can't make the right things just appear. Your men got it wrong. Please, I'm not trying to be difficult. I made…I made notes on the list…why it's wrong."

The commander glanced down at the piece of paper Rodney had been working on, that the guards had brought with them. "And you think a few notes are good enough? You think this should be enough to hold off another beating—or more?"

"Please," Rodney whimpered. "I did as you asked, even did more. Tried to explain why they were wrong so they'd know what to look for next time."

Kolya's eyes narrowed for a moment before he glanced at his guards. "Feed him, water him, hose him down. Take him back to the lab to work for the rest of the afternoon. Doctor McKay, I expect some progress with the materials you do have by the end of the day."

"I can't start building with only some of the materials," Rodney protested even as the guards unhooked him from the…demented torture-chamber version of a massage chair. "You need all of them if you actually want it to come out right."

At Kolya's gesture, the guards paused, holding Rodney taut between them. The commander circled them a few times. "Then I guess you had better find a way to make it work." A hard, cold object—a large plug, oh god—was shoved inside him, with no prep, no lube. It was twisted, making him scream, before it was removed. "Take him."

Shaking, he offered no resistance as he was moved—dragged—to the communal bathroom. The guard tugged his hands above his head, hooking them to something before turning a hose on him, cleaning him off. Every drop of cold water was like icy daggers all over his body.

By the time he was done, he was shivering uncontrollably and unable to stand on his own. They dried him off roughly, the doctor re-applying the cream to his back before they finally let him go, carrying him to the lab where a small bowl of oatmeal had been left.

"Eat, and then work." the guard barked at him as he was dumped onto a rough stool.

Rodney didn't argue, wouldn't argue. He ate what was placed in front of him, drinking down the small glass of water. He left them on the table, a guard taking the empty dishes away.

He worked—he really did, but without all the required parts it was impossible to do more than move things around. He built a few small components, but compared to the overall device, he'd done nothing.

Kolya was going to be very, very angry.

It was late when he was hauled back again, still being dragged since he could barely stand at the moment, attached once more to the torture device, his muscles pulling painfully.

"I am not pleased."

"Please believe me. I did the best I could. I'm missing so many parts…" he explained. Kolya needed to understand, needed to believe him.

The commander backhanded him again, hard, across the face, the pain making his eyes water. "I don't care about your excuses. Results are all that matter."

"I can't do what you want if I don't have the materials. I can't build it out of nothing."

Kolya picked up the gag from the other night, shoving it into Rodney's mouth and locking it into place. "I do not care, and I am tired of listening to you whine. The gag will be taken out so you can eat, but otherwise you will remain gagged for the foreseeable future. Take him back to his cell. I don't want to look at him anymore tonight."

Rodney whimpered, knowing his eyes were open wide as he stared at Kolya, as the guards manhandled him out of the office and to the cell. He was tossed inside, hitting the floor hard as the door banged shut behind him.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

His hands moved to the back of his head, feeling the padlock holding the gag in place, his jaw already aching. He moaned around it, rocking slightly as he wrapped his arms around his middle, trying not to whimper or cry or break down.

But he was scared.

And alone.

And hurting. Oh god. He hurt so much.

But he was trying to do what Kolya wanted. Trying to obey as best he could. But it wasn't enough. Kolya wanted more.

And Rodney already knew he'd give him more.

He finally managed to crawl to the bed, lying sideways to avoid the damp spot, falling asleep curled on his side, shivering, his blanket long since gone.

The guards arrived in the morning with his breakfast and the drug, injecting it before they unlocked the gag. He ate slowly, his jaw twanging with every bite. He washed down the oatmeal with the glass of lukewarm water and as soon as the empty glass touched the table, the gag was forced back into place, the lock clicking closed.

He whimpered and moaned, but the guards simply ignored him, ushering the doctor in to apply the hateful cream once again. He held still because he was ordered to, moaning and groaning as it stung.

Once in the lab, he worked. Slowly, steadily, carefully. The gag came out when lunch was served, going back into place as soon as he was finished eating. The guards were following the orders to the letter.

He received dinner and his second injection for the day in the lab as well, working for several hours after it was served before he was given ten minutes in the communal bathroom to clean up and use the facilities before getting dumped in his cell.

The pattern continued for the next several days. Exactly the same. The guards offered no mercy, no compassion. His jaw was so sore that eating was a challenge, but he did it, needing the food and water they gave him just to keep his body going. He really needed more, but there was no way to ask for it.

Not that he would.

There were new materials and parts in the labs every day, the men obviously working at getting the things he needed. He was still missing a few things, but they were getting few and far between.

He was building a bomb. For the Genii. He hated himself more and more with each passing day, but as every day began it was easier just to work, to do what was asked of him.

Days after he had been muffled, he was brought to Kolya's office again, strapped back down. The commander was sitting as his desk, watching silently.

Rodney kept his eyes down, not wanting to do anything to anger him.

"I was told you have made some progress. Very good."

He nodded as much as the bindings would allow.

"You are far more pleasant company when your mouth is otherwise occupied. I don't believe we'll be changing that any time soon."

Rodney closed his eyes, holding back a whimper, his entire body tense.

"I have found a suitable location for a test run of the weapons you are building. You will have a prototype ready in three days."

Rodney looked up this time, focusing his wide eyes on Kolya. Three days wasn't enough. He was still missing pieces. He shook his head, trying to get him to understand.

"That was not a question, nor is it an option. You will have it, or you will suffer."

He moaned around the gag, shaking his head. He didn't understand. He couldn't make something out of nothing. Koyla had to see that, had to know. What he asked was impossible.

"Perhaps a bit of added incentive is in order. In my absence, I have tracked down your precious Sheppard, and purchased him from his owners. He is currently being held in another facility, being used by my men the same way he was used by his former masters. If I do not have a working prototype, he dies."

Rodney felt his eyes widen even further as he shook his head, whimpering and moaning and yelling around the gag as best he could. No! Nonononono. No! Not John, no! He tugged at the restraints holding him in place, his panic and fear escalating exponentially.

"If you wish him to live, you will work."

Oh god, please, not Sheppard, not John. He sobbed around the gag, his eyes closing as he nodded.

Kolya's voice was cruel, and Rodney had no way to shut it out. "He is a very pretty man, isn't he? I can see why his former master's purchased him to use for their own pleasure. He sobs quite sweetly by the time the third man is taking him."

Rodney howled, shaking his head, his eyes closed tightly as he clenched his hands. No. Not John. No, it couldn't be true. Not John. Oh god, not him.

"Perhaps next time I visit, I will try him out myself. I will give him your regards."

He sobbed again, shaking his head, suddenly weary.

Kolya just chuckled. "Bring him back to his cell. Let him dream of all the ways his pretty lover is suffering."

The guards released him from the torture chair, dragging him to his room, leaving him in a pile on the floor as he trembled and shook. John…oh god, John. With no energy left to drag himself to the bed, he curled into a ball on the floor, a restless sleep filled with dreams finally overtaking him. In his dreams—nightmares—John was screaming his name, asking for Rodney to help him, but he was always too far away, always too late.

At that moment Rodney knew he'd do anything Kolya asked, anything at all, if it kept John safe.

Kolya had found the price of his cooperation, of his soul.

***

Jita sat in his parlor, curled up on a pile of cushions, and stared. The face in the picture Carson-guest had given him yesterday… He knew the man's name. He was Rodney.

Shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut, Jita set the picture aside, face down. He could feel tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He was so confused. Why did he care about that person? Why did he ache for him? He had Ashira, his master, who loved him, touched him, cared for him. Why did he keep dwelling on that stranger?

Maybe he should let Jacquil throw it away after all.

But before he could do anything else, he got yet another shock to his system. Silas and Jacquil came into his rooms, which wasn't unusual. But with them was Ashira, and his master almost never visited him here. Eyes going wide, he was on his hands and knees, falling into a waiting position immediately. "M..master?"

Ashira touched his head, fingers trailing through his hair. "How are you this day, Jita?"

Leaning into the touch, Jita's eyes half closed. "Better now that you're here, master."

Ashira smile, caressing his cheek. "Jita, do you remember the man from yesterday?"

Jita had started to purr softly, leaning into the touches with a soft smile. The question made him blink though. "The guest?"

"Yes. Carson was his name. He asked to speak with you again."

It made his heart start to beat a little faster, his breath coming faster. "Master?"

"If you would not like to speak with him you do not have to. I said I would ask you. This is your time here in this room and I would not want you to be disturbed by him if you do not wish it. He would not be allowed to touch you or examine you. Simply to talk."

Jita swallowed, moving a little closer to his master, relieved when it was allowed, encouraged. "He wants to come here?"

"Only if you allow him to."

Jita looked up, wishing he could be kissed again. "Will you be here with me, master? Or will I... will I be alone with him?"

"Silas will remain. As will a guard. I have other business to attend to." Ashira paused, stroking Jita's cheek. "If you decide to speak with him, you can always ask him to leave. He has agreed to abide by your wishes—whatever they be."

Jita licked his lips. The picture... what could it hurt to talk? "Would it please you, master? If I talk to him?"

"Whatever you choose to do would please me, whatever makes you happy. This is your time and your rooms. He would be your guest."

Jita put his head against Ashira's leg, sighing softly at how good the contact felt. "I'll talk to him then. I...he confuses me."

"Ask him whatever you wish. If you do not wish the conversation to continue, tell him so and he will leave. The laws of our house have been explained to him and he has agreed to them," Ashira said.

Jita nodded, then noticed that his master's cock was right there. He shifted a little, moving his face closer, inhaling the scent. It distracted him from the conversation.

"Jita," Ashira said, tugging him back with a knowing smile. "That is for later."

With a soft moan, Jita nodded, then perked up. "I'm allowed to come to you tonight?"

Ashira nodded. "I do not wish to share with the court today."

He shivered with anticipation. "Then I'll talk quickly, master."

"You do not have to. I have business to attend to. I will send Jacquil when I am free. What is your decision?"

He nodded. "I'll see him, master." He would leave when Jita wanted him to, and Silas would be here. Maybe he could make the confusion go away, so he could return to focusing on Ashira alone.

Ashira nodded. "Then I shall have him escorted in." He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Jita's forehead. "Until tonight."

Jita smiled, the burn of the kiss relaxing him, the tingle of anticipation settling low in his stomach. "Yes, master."

Jacquil and Ashira left a moment later after speaking a few words with Silas, who stayed behind.

Silas settled him back in his cushions, sitting nearby to run fingers through his hair. Jita was completely relaxed and happy when a sharply indrawn breath made him open his eyes. The guest—Carson—had arrived. "Sir."

With reddened cheeks, Carson entered, thanking the guard who'd escorted him in. "Jita…laddie. Thank you for seeing me. I…I'm glad to see you again." The man was nervous, wringing his hands together as he slowly made his way to one of the chairs nearby, but not too close.

Jita just blinked slowly. "Ashira said you wished to talk to me. I'm sorry if I was bad yesterday. You aren't going to punish me, are you?"

"Punish?" Carson's face went from embarrassed to confused to compassionate in the course of a few seconds. "No, laddie. Nothing like that. I just thought we could speak a bit…get to know each other a little."

Jita didn't really understand why his master wanted the guest to get to know him, but he did, so... He looked up at Silas for a nod of encouragement. "Okay."

"So…" Carson said, glancing around the room. "This is where you stay?"

"Mmm hmmm. This is my sitting room. I sleep in there," He pointed through an open archway into the room with his bedding, "and the room where I'm prepared for court is on the other side." He made a soft, happy noise when he thought about court.

"You like living here?"

"I like my master's room better. But I don't get to stay there every night."

"Aye, I can imagine," Carson said, glancing away for few seconds. "How long have you been here, in your master's service?"

Jita opened his mouth, then shrugged, looking up at Silas. "How long have I been here?"

"Many turns of the moon," Silas said, but it wasn't really an answer.

Jita, however, looked back at Carson and obediently repeated it. "Many turns of the moon."

"Hmm…aye…it has been that," Carson replied. "How much contact do you have with people outside your…family? Do you have any questions for me? I don't wanna sit and grill you." Carson smiled warmly, meeting Jita's gaze.

Jita shook his head. "You're the first person I've spoken to besides my family. It's not allowed—usually. I don't talk to anyone except Jacquil or Silas or Ashira, and only they are allowed to touch me. And I only come when Ashira wants me to."

"Aye…Ashira explained that to me. He seems to treat you well."

Jita nodded, smiling softly thinking about Ashira, about how good he made him feel. "I'm his favorite. He promised that he'll never set me aside."

"What does that mean…being his favorite?"

"He likes me better than anyone else." Jita's voice took on an almost dreamy tone. "He kisses me sometimes. And touches me. He says I'm beautiful, that he'll keep me always. Most slaves get set aside after only a moon or two, but not me."

"No…you've gotten many moons…" Carson said, his voice quiet.

"Mmmmmmm." Thinking about Ashira and his bed made Jita realize it was time for his afternoon dose of pria. He kept it in a small bowl within easy reach of his lounging area, so he absently reached for one, closing his eyes and humming as the initial wash of pleasure, like always, relaxed him and set him on fire at the same time.

It took him a few minutes before he opened his eyes again, Carson looking everywhere except at him.

"Sir? Did I make you angry?" He didn't want to offend his master's guest.

"No…no you didn't."

That made him relax muscles he hadn't realized tensed up. "Good." His eyes caught the edge of the photo, the one he had left face-down. Trailing his fingers across the edge, he lifted his eyes shyly. "Who is the man in the image you gave me?"

"He's a…a friend of mine," Carson answered slowly, a certain sadness overshadowing his face.

"His name is Rodney?"

"Aye. It is."

Jita licked his lips, suddenly a little frightened again. "Why do I know that?"

"Because you knew him before you came here."

Jita knew his eyes had gone wide, and he pressed slightly back into the cushions, away from the guest. "No."

"I didna tell you his name. How would you know it otherwise? And why does it scare you?"

Silas' fingers were back in his hair, soothing him, grounding him. "I belong to Ashira."

"And at one time, Rodney belonged to you," Carson said quietly, so quietly.

Jita began to shake. "I'm a slave. Not a master."

"Before this you were many things," Carson said, the words whispered, his hands clenched in his lap. "Lover. Leader. Friend. Hero. And to Rodney you were all of those and more. But now…" He shook his head, the sadness returning.

Jita shook even harder, tears leaking out of his eyes. He didn't know if it was because he was afraid, or because he was sorry. "I'm a slave. Please... don't.... I want... please..." He suddenly needed, desperately needed, to be held. But Ashira wasn't here, and Rodney... The thought brought him up short, made him keen softly in distress.

"I'm sorry. I'll just leave…" Carson said, obviously upset himself, his shuffling steps making Jita pause.

He reached out, catching Carson's sleeve. Knowing he would probably be punished for it later, he couldn't stop himself. Some part of him trusted this man, and he needed... He crawled, pressing himself against the man's leg, trembling. "I don't understand..."

"Jita…please…I donna want to get myself in trouble."

He was shaking hard, pressing his face into Carson's leg as he cried. He felt Silas touch the top of his head, heard him murmur a soft permission, assuring him he wasn't going to get either of them in trouble.

"Jita…John…what do you want?"

He jerked at the name. Both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. It just made him scoot closer, shake harder, the tears becoming soft sobs. "I don't know. I want Ashira. I want to not be confused. I want...I want... I want Rodney and I don't know why, and I—"

"Damn…Silas…I can hold him without getting in trouble?"

"This is an unusual situation, so yes, I will allow it." Silas sounded distressed too, and that made Jita keen again, not knowing anymore what was right, what he was supposed to do.

Carson tugged Jita away from his legs, nearly making him panic until he was suddenly enveloped in his arms, holding Jita close to his chest. "Shhhh, laddie. It's okay. I’m sorry tae have upset ya."

With a cry, Jita climbed into Carson's lap, curling as close as he could, needing the contact. He buried his face in the other man's chest, and let himself be soothed. It wasn't the same as when Jacquil or Silas or Ashira did it. Carson was more hesitant, but so kind, so caring.

He rocked the two of them together, offering murmurs of assurances, his hands petting his back, the touch beginning to ground him.

Carson even smelled familiar.

Another name surfaced. It was disconnected, not meaning anything at the moment, but the smell made him think of it. "Atlantis. What does that mean?"

"Home."

Jita turned his head so he could look up without losing the contact. "This is home."

"Is it really?"

Jita squeezed his eyes closed again. "I don't know."

"It's okay, laddie. Just relax. I’m here."

Jita did as he was told, relaxing completely in Carson's arms, letting himself be held.

He had no idea how long Carson simply held him, arms wrapped around his body, keeping him safe and secure before Silas gently touched his shoulder. "Carson needs to leave, Jita. His friends are preparing to depart."

Jita lifted his head, nodding. "Ashira? Court?"

"Yes, his friends were in Ashira's court and they are getting ready to leave."

Jita climbed out of Carson's lap, stretching as he did. "Yes, sir." Once he was back on his cushions he looked at Silas. "His friends? Is Rodney with them? Can I see him?"

He heard Carson's indrawn breath and turned, seeing the man pale.

He felt himself go tense again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I've been bad...I'm sorry, please don't be mad—"

"I’m not mad, laddie," Carson said kindly, sadly. "If he was here I would love you to meet him, but he's not. And I donna know if he'll ever come here to see you."

For some reason, that made Jita's chest ache. "He's mad at me, isn't he? He doesn't...doesn't want me anymore. That's why I was sold to master Ashira, isn't it? Because Rodney doesn't want me..."

"No, Jita," Carson's voice was firm before softening again. "Rodney was…was taken from us… and we canna find him. We've been looking, but we canna find him."

Jita's eyes went huge. Rodney was... Rodney was in danger? Part of him sparked, hard. A part that had been silent for what felt like a long time. But even before he could figure out what it was, it was gone again, leaving him shaken.

Carson was looking at the guard hovering in the door. "Aye. I'm coming. Tell Major Lorne to cool his heels for a moment more." Carson turned back to Jita. "Be well, my friend. I hope to see you again."

"If it pleases my master." Jita nodded miserably. He just wanted his world to make sense again. "T…thank you, Carson."

"There is nothing to thank me for, laddie. Just take care of yourself." He pursed his lips for a moment, pausing midway to the door. "You are a good man. If you canna remember anything else, please remember that." He dug into his pocket, holding up a small rock. "I think you'll like this. Consider it another…present."

Jita held out his hand, tilting it as the rock was placed in the center of his palm. It was pretty, but he didn't... something inside it flickered, making Jita's eyes go wide again as he looked up at Carson.

"It only works for certain people and you're one of them. If you concentrate hard enough it'll light up and play music. Enjoy it, Jita."

He nodded almost absently, squinting hard at the rock. Faint traces of melody and flashes of light felt tantalizingly out of reach. "Thank you."

"You'll get it I’m sure. Just keep trying," Carson said with a smile. "And this time you're welcome. Good night, Jita, Silas." A swish of cloth and he was gone.

Jita played with the little toy until Jacquil came to get him, to bring him to Ashira. Since he wasn't being taken to the full court, they didn't dress him completely, only enough to escort him through the halls without embarrassing Ashira. He spent the night being loved, caressed, petted, held, and comforted. When morning came around again, he felt alarm stab though him when he woke to Ashira watching him, faint tear-trails glittering on his cheek. "Master?"

Ashira sat up, looking down at Jita. "You know I care for you very much."

Jita nodded. Since Ashira was over him, he hooked one leg around his master, pulling him closer.

"Did you like Carson? What did you think of him?"

Jita shook his head. "He is...nice. And he gave me a present. But... but he confuses me, makes me unhappy. I like you better."

"What would you say if I told you that you used to know him, before?"

"He told me that, too." Jita ran his hand along his master's side, trailing it down. "Fuck me? Please?"

"No, Jita. Not today."

He whimpered.

"Jacquil spoke to me about your purchase…I…I am displeased about what has transpired and Hadrious will pay heavily for it."

Jita arched up, seeking contact. "No, master! No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to displease you. I'll do better, please don't be angry..."

"Shush. You did nothing to displease me." He paused. "Do you trust me?"

Jita stilled, but nodded. "Yes, master."

"Will you do whatever I ask of you?"

Jita shook his head. "Don't send me away. Please, master, I'll be good, so good..."

"Answer the question."

A few tears leaked out, and his voice dropped to a broken whisper. "Yes, master."

"Then I wish for you to go and get yourself cleaned up and prepare yourself for court. Can you do that?"

Jita nodded. "Yes, master. Anything you want." Court wasn't bad. Court was good. He didn't ever get to attend morning court. That just meant Ashira wanted him to be close all the time, instead of just sometimes, right?

"Then go. Prepare yourself. Jacquil will bring you when you are ready."

Jita pressed his mouth against Ashira's shoulder before rising, doing as he was told. He was prepared for court quickly, dressed in his silks. When he opened his mouth, however, Jaquil just shook his head. Jita started to panic again.

"Shush. You have had your morning pria. That will be sufficient."

Jita shook his head. "Please..."

"No. And do not ask again."

He bit his lip, but did as he was told. He was led through the hallways quickly, and took a step forward as soon as they were in the court, wanting the familiar and comforting embrace of his master.

But Ashira shook his head, gesturing for him to kneel in the center of the floor.

With a whimper he did so, sinking to the ground.

A tight, but pleased smile was sent his way before turning his attention to someone else in the room. "Doctor Weir, please consider our agreement finalized. I will expect to see your Major tomorrow as we agreed."

Jita shivered as a woman stepped forward thanking Ashira, when she turned to Jita, he started to tremble, shaking his head.

She gestured someone forward and suddenly Carson was kneeling next to him, smiling gently at him.

No. Nononono. It was one thing to talk to Carson in his rooms, where he could send him away whenever he wanted. He wasn't going anywhere with him. Looking up to Ashira, he begged, brokenly. "Master... please... no... let me... promised..."

"Shhh. There's nay a thing to worry about," Carson said, answering instead of Ashira.

No. He tried to crawl to Ashira, tried to get to him. This was all a bad dream. He was going to wake up safe in his master's arms, loved, cared for.

"Jita. Be still. Listen to Carson."

He moaned, but did as he was told, falling back into position, panting hard. "Yes, master."

Carson looked uncomfortable, but he turned Jita's head toward him, his fingers warm, soft, gentle. "You're going to come with me. To Atlantis."

He moaned again, tears running openly down his cheeks. "Master, please..."

"John, please…trust me."

He was pulled to his feet, and his eyes strayed to Ashira. He sobbed softly as he was led from the room. He promised! Jita was his favorite, and he said he would keep him with him forever! Why? What had he done wrong?

"You did nothing wrong," Carson said quietly, holding his arm, stroking his back.

Jita hiccupped. "He...he's sending me away. Displeased him. So sorry... didn't mean to be bad... sorry..."

"He's sending you home, where you belong."

Jita just bowed his head, still crying softly as Carson and the woman, who had been silent since they left, guided him down the hall.

The temperature out of the hallways was a striking contrast to what he was used to—cool and breezy, making him shiver. Carson caught the gesture, offering a small smile. "We'll get you somewhere warm right quick."

"Yes, master." It seemed wrong, to call someone other than Ashira master, but if Carson had bought him, if Ashira had told him to obey him, then he was Jita's new master.

"Carson. Please, call me Carson."

Jita looked at him with surprise. "I'm only allowed to use my master's name in bed. Are you going to let me come? Do you have pria? And laai?"

"I'd like you to use my name," he said as they approached the tree line, and then suddenly the woman in front of them disappeared.

Jita froze, backing up a step slightly, bumping into Carson.

"Watch. This is fun," he said, tugging Jita forward and…into a small ship, another man standing with a blanket that he wrapped around Jita.

"Warmer?"

Jita nodded, looking around with huge eyes. This was... this was...

Carson pointed to each person in the…ship. "This is David here who gave you the blanket. Up front is Evan—he's going to pilot us home. And the lovely lass is Elizabeth. Let's sit you down and get you comfortable."

Jita was quickly getting overwhelmed. This was all so unfamiliar... and yet, it wasn't. And that frightened him badly. He turned desperate eyes to Carson. "Pria, master? Please?"

"It's Carson and no. Let's just sit down. You can lean on me if you need grounding."

Jita whimpered, but sat where his master told him to, not understanding the very sad, very unhappy looks everyone was giving him.

Carson finally sat next to him, a small kit at his side. "How are ye doing?"

"Pria? Please?" He couldn't...it was too much. He was desperate for the warmth, the comfort it brought him, washing away everything that made him afraid or sad.

"No. You need to learn how to deal with things without it."

The meaning of that hit him hard, making him push back, against a corner, drawing his legs up to him. He was shaking his head hard, in full out panic now. "No, please, please, so good, don't punish me, do anything you want, I'll be good, please—"

"Shush…please," Carson said.

But Jita just shook his head. "So well trained, please, master, please don't punish me, I'm sorry, whatever I did to make you angry, so sorry, please, anything you want..."

"I’m not angry. I want to help you."

With a whimper, whispered, "Hold me?"

Carson nodded, gesturing him forward. "I'm not gonna hurt you. What are you afraid of?"

Jita hiccupped another sob. "Don't understand... Please..."

"Entering the gate," someone said…Evan maybe…and then suddenly Jita felt something in the back of his mind.

He sat up straight, panting, shaking his head slightly as something... something... it was in his head, welcoming him, but it was... it was... he cried out, terrified, and practically threw himself at Carson, burying his head in the other man's chest.

"And that's Atlantis. Welcome home, John. Welcome home."

Jita just tried to move closer, to crawl inside his new master.

Carson held him only letting go long enough to put him on a bed that moved and then he was sitting on the edge, petting his arm, his neck, his face. "Just rest and trust me."

Jita just shook his head, miserable, scared, and starting to feel itchy. It was time for his dose of pria. With a bit of desperation, he opened his mouth and looked at Carson hopefully.

"No, John. We talked about this."

He sobbed again softly, looking to the others, to... Evan, David, Elizabeth. "Please?"

They all shook their heads and then he was moving, the walls sliding by. "Just rest," Carson said, petting him, touching him.

Jita leaned into the touches, letting them ground him, comfort him. "Are you going to take me to your bed?"

Carson offered a small smile. "In a way."

Focus on this. This he knew. He was trained. His master... Ashira... had told him he was very very good. "Make you feel good. Please you."

"Right now, all you have to do to please me is be quiet and let me treat you."

Jita nodded, obediently moving to another bed, this one without wheels, when he was told, lying back at Carson's urging. "Mas... Carson?"

"Shush. Just close your eyes and relax."

A needle was pushed into his arm, stirring up vague memories of a punishment—of pain so overwhelming he was panicking and fighting to get away.

"Shush. Be still." When Jita didn't stop, Carson's hands were on his arms, holding him down. "Damn it, Colonel. Couldn't you wait five more minutes? Suzanne, get that…" Another set of hands and then something soft was slipped over his wrists. The hands let go and Jita discovered his arms were held down.

He screamed, tried to fight, tugging at the restraints. Around him, the lights flickered, it felt like an entire city was flickering, panicking right along with him.

"John, calm down. We're not going to hurt you. Suzanne…legs. Get his ankles."

Jita fought, kicking out, sending the woman called Suzanne flying backwards. He was terrified, pushed beyond what he could cope with, and now they were tying him down.

And suddenly he felt something traveling in his arm, spreading in his veins. He opened his eyes, looking up at Carson as he stepped away, a needle in his hands. "Aye. That'll do it."

It was... not as good as pria, but close enough that he let it calm him, surrendered to it. Tears still wet on his cheeks, he let it pull him into sleep.

*** 


	2. Chapter 2

Evan Lorne watched his commanding officer, and one of the finest men he had ever served on, be wheeled away, begging for drugs, confused, and absolutely terrified. It made his chest hurt, had broken his heart a little when Sheppard had looked at him, no masks, no attempts to hide, just pure desperation, pure fear.

This was worse, in some ways, than seeing him panting and writhing for sex.

Swallowing hard, Evan turned his head, trying to get control of his own emotions. David and Elizabeth hadn't moved either, so he had a feeling they were going through a lot of the same things right now. Ronon and Teyla were hovering nearby, watching silently. They had been waiting in the Jumper Bay when they'd arrived.

David finally broke the silence. "What time did we have to go tomorrow?"

"0900." Even knew his voice was thick, and didn't try to hide it.

"I'm…I’m going down to the labs," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes fixed somewhere on the floor past Evan's feet.

Evan nodded. "I'll see you later, for dinner." As soon as David was gone, Lorne squared his shoulders and raised his eyes to meet Doctor Weir's gaze. "I'm ready to debrief when you are, ma'am."

She finally looked up, a weariness he only every associated with soldiers on the front lines in her eyes. "I think we can wait until tomorrow. We'll have more news from Carson as well."

He was amazingly grateful for that. He just wanted to go lock himself in his office for a little while. "He's going to be okay, ma'am. Doctor Beckett will fix him."

She nodded slowly, arms curving to wrap around her torso. "I know. It's going to be a rough few days, but he'll be fine. Kate will have her hands full for a while…especially when he gets the news about Rodney." She paused glancing down the hall.

Teyla stepped forward, her voice quiet, even. "We will find Doctor McKay, as well. We will not give up."

"It does not look good," she said, her voice trailing off. "I'm going to check on some things… Did we need to talk about anything else for tomorrow?"

"No, ma'am. We'll be in the briefing room before we leave tomorrow for any last minute instructions."

"Okay." She trailed off again, nodding. "I'll see you in the morning then."

He nodded, wandering to his own office, knowing that Teyla and Ronon would go down to the infirmary and would watch over Sheppard.. After a couple of hours where he buried himself in his work, he glanced at his watch to see it was almost time to meet David. But first... With a sigh, he made his way to the infirmary, finding Carson Beckett looking exhausted, eyes bruised, next to an unconscious Sheppard. At least the Colonel was in scrubs now, and the makeup was gone—as were Teyla and Ronon. "How is he?"

"Blessedly unconscious and he will stay that way until I'm certain he's past the worse of the symptoms."

Evan nodded. "Probably better that way. God, to see him like that..."

"And you didn't see the half of it," Carson said with a sigh. "It's gonna be a long couple of days, but he'll be fine."

"Is he going to... He didn't even really know who he is, did he? Will that, will he remember when the drugs wear off?"

"Things were…fuzzy, confused. He remembered Atlantis, Rodney, even me, but it was only vague recollections. Probably very close to déjà vu I imagine." He paused for a beat, drawing in a breath as he glanced over at Sheppard again. "I hope he doesn't remember much, honestly. It'll be easier for him."

Remembering his first views of Sheppard when they had found him, Evan really hoped he didn't remember a damn thing, although that was probably asking for too much. "God, and when he finds out about McKay..."

"Until he is back to himself that subject is off-limits. Tell him he's working on a project, he's off-world. Anything but the truth."

Lorne shook his head. "I can't, I won't lie to my CO. I won't tell him if he doesn't ask, but—"

"Medical orders, laddie. I'm going to get it cleared with Elizabeth."

Lorne shook his head. "Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, this is going to be hard enough for him as it is. If, when, he finds out we were hiding things from him, it will just make him not trust us."

"At the beginning he's not going to know up from down. I need to make sure he stays in the infirmary until I can get him stabilized and through the worst of the withdrawal. It's for his own good. Elizabeth will agree with me."

Lorne sighed. "Whatever you think best, Doc. I don't agree with it, but that's why you have the medical degree and I don't."

"Aye, laddie." Carson offered him a smile. "You can stay for a bit if you want, but he's going to be sleeping and I doubt he'll be up at all until tomorrow sometime."

Lorne shook his head. "I'm going to the mess in a minute. I just wanted to stop by and see how he was doing. What happened to all that stuff he was wearing?"

"It's in storage. We should probably give it back to Ashira. I can get it packed up for you if you want."

"Should we wait and see if Sheppard wants it?"

Carson's eyebrow rose. "You actually think he'd want to keep it?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I have no idea. I just... so much of this was people taking away his option to choose for himself. Yeah, it looks like most of it was spent in drugged bliss, but still... slave."

"I can ask him."

Evan nodded again. "All right, I'll just... Get some sleep okay? It sounds like the next few days, at least, are going to be on the hellish side. Try to rest while you can."

"I'll sleep when he does. Get some rest yourself, Evan. You still have a lot ahead of you until Sheppard back on his feet. Delegate what you can." Carson patted his arm as he headed over to the bed to check the readings on the monitors.

With another look at the sleeping man—he looked so fragile, broken in a way—Evan sighed and headed out. He got a tray and found David, in a quiet corner of the mess. "Hey."

"Hi," he said, glancing up briefly before returning to his food. "Quite a day."

Lorne nodded. He was getting a lot of looks from people all over the base—the rumor mill was hard at work, and people were starting to find out Sheppard was back, in the infirmary, and not exactly in his right mind.

David was strangely quiet, eating his food, his thoughts obviously elsewhere.

They both picked at their food for a while before Evan just needed to get out of there. "Up for a walk? I could use the company." It was code for, 'let's go back to my room I need to touch you'.

"A walk?" David looked up, puzzlement on his face.

Standing, Evan nodded. "Come on, you can use the exercise."

"I'll have you know that I passed my medicals with flying colors. I do not need exercise," David said as he stood, picking up the remnants of his dinner.

"Yeah yeah..." They bantered a bit half-heartedly until they were in Evan's room. Sitting hard on the bed, he gave up any pretense of being okay. "Fuck."

"While I normally would consent to that, I don't think either of us is up for it," he said quietly, settling carefully next to Evan.

Leaning into David, Evan just sighed. "Yeah, no. Probably not. God, he was just so fucking broken..."

"It was the drugs mostly. He'll get past that."

"I know. It was just, seeing him like that, so afraid, so desperate. It's..." He shook his head again. "Did Beckett give you guys in botany the samples of that drug? It was a plant, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. A fruit of some kind. I know there's a sample down there and they're trying to re-create it in the lab. It's actually not as complex as they thought. Probably will have a beta version in a week or so."

"Wait, they're actually trying to make it! Why? We already know what it does, and that it's obviously addictive."

"But it might be good for other things and if we have enough of it we can test it. They only gave us a few pria. We might be able to derive other things from it and also find a better antidote…for lack of a better term." David paused. "We should also try to get some of the other one, too. Laai, I think it was called."

"Yeah, I heard Sheppard mention it. Do we have any idea what that one is supposed to do? He was so blissed out when he was in the court, I have no idea which drugs were causing it."

"I talked to one of the attendants when you and Doctor Weir were in there yesterday," David said, his eyes focused on his hands. "The pria is what they use primarily to control the slaves. It makes them feel very good and keeps them at a constant state of arousal so that they crave every touch they receive. Hence, the begging."

"Huh. And the other one?"

"Constant erection and the ability to come multiple times with hardly any recovery time."

He swallowed hard. Well, that explained why Sheppard had been so... desperate. "If it wasn't addictive, you could make a fortune off something like that on Earth."

"As far as I know, the laai isn't addictive. It wears off and the slaves don't crave it. The pria on the other hand is very addictive, but it takes a few doses before it becomes so—probably about a week of constant dosing. At least that's what they told me."

"Which one accounted for why he was so fuzzy? The pria?"

"Yes," David said, offering a light chuckle and shaking his head.

Toeing off his shoes, Evan swung around, pulling David down with him, so they were spooned together. "What's so funny?"

"Sorry. Inappropriate laugher, I know. I was thinking about the laai and the SGC. Might be a great way to raise some money for the program. I can see the advertising now…"Straight from Pegasus, the next male enhancement drug."

Snuffling into the back of the other man's neck, Lorne felt a little inappropriate laughter of his own well up before he sobered again. "How bad is it going to be for Sheppard? The withdrawal from all this stuff?"

"Don't know," David shrugged. "I don't know much about the pria. I haven't had a chance to look at its chemical structure. I can if you want."

"That's all right. It's not like we won't know first hand soon enough." They shifted around, getting more comfortable. The long day was beginning to catch up with him, and his eyes were getting heavy.

"We'd be more comfortable if I'd taken my boots off you know," David said and in his voice Evan could hear the smile.

"Mmmmm. 'Kay." But he didn't loosen his grip on the other man, if anything pulling him closer using the arm and leg he had slung over David's body.

"Evan," David sighed.

"Hmm?"

"I need to get up."

Sighing, Evan loosened his hold. "Strip fast."

"Excuse me?"

Evan cracked his eyes, letting David see just how worn out he was. "I just need to hold you tonight. God, it could have been any of us on that mission..."

"It should have been us," David said, tugging off his boots and socks and padding into the bathroom. "It was our mission."

Swallowing hard, Evan curled into himself a little more, guilt overwhelming him. Sheppard should never have been in that position. Since from all accounts it seemed the slavers had targeted the team specifically because of Sheppard, if he hadn't been there, none of this would have happened...

"Stop beating yourself up," David said a moment later as he stepped out of the bathroom in his boxers and t-shirt. "They were looking to grab someone and they didn't care who. It was just a matter of wrong place wrong time."

"You don't know that. If we had been there, they might have just let us pass by. You were there, you know what they did was against the code or law or whatever. Would they have taken the chance if they didn't see dollar signs when Sheppard stepped through the gate?"

"Doubtful." David's eyebrow rose, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Do you think I'd shack up with just anyone?"

Sitting up long enough to strip off his own shirt and shimmy out of his pants, Evan shook his head. "I'm no Sheppard."

"I don't know. Sheppard's not my type."

"Good to know." His mouth quirked up a little. "Not even decked out as a sex slave? He's not my type either, but damn the man is hot. You can't help but notice it."

David shrugged, sliding under the covers. "He's okay."

Evan pulled him close again, once more slinging an arm and a leg over the other man to pull their bodies close together. "I'd take a sexy botanist who's really good at hide and seek over a Sheppard any day."

"You had better say that if you know what's good for you."

Kissing the back of David's neck, Evan smiled. "It's the truth."

"Good. Now go to sleep. We have more fun in the morning."

With the familiar feel and smell of his lover around him, Evan fell asleep fast. The next morning was a rush of getting dressed, getting a quick last-minute briefing, and then they were back once again on the planet, being led into Ashira's court. It was odd, knowing Sheppard had been here, and wasn't here anymore. Evan tried not to think too hard about it.

"Welcome once again, Major Lorne," Ashira said with a smile. "I am pleased to see you."

He bowed slightly. "Thank you. Your hospitality has been very much appreciated."

"How is…Colonel Sheppard?"

Evan saw the pain flicker across Ashira's face. However Sheppard had gotten here, this man had cared for him, in his own way. "He is... struggling a little. He was confused yesterday, and upset. But Doctor Beckett is with him, and assures us in a few days he'll be fine."

"Yes, the pria takes a few days to subside in the body. I'd ask if you could give my regards, but that is probably not appropriate."

Evan smiled a little. "If I'm allowed to, I will, sir."

"I thank you," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Now, while I know we agreed with your Doctor Weir to exchange information, I was hoping you would be able to aid me with something else as well."

Lorne's eyebrow went up. "I can try, sir. At the very least, if I don't think I can agree to it, I'll take it back to her for approval. What can we do for you?"

"It seems that Hadrious has broken several laws of our lands, but I do not have some of the resources I need to…enforce my rights. He will be returning in several moons with the slave market."

It took a few heartbeats for Lorne to realize what Ashira was asking for. His answering smile was predatory. "We've always been big believers in enforcing local laws. It would be an honor to offer you our assistance."

Ashira's smile broadened. "Good. I require his presence in my courts. Can you bring him to me?"

Lorne grinned. "I know just the guy to get him for you, sir. You haven't met him yet, but he is a member of Colonel Sheppard's team. He's a little...irritated…with Hadrious right now."

"Even better," Ashira said, clapping his hands together. "So, what is it you wish to be done with him? I can add it to my list of offenses since we are allies."

"Well, he did kidnap four of our people against even your own laws, and at least one of them, Ronon, wasn't exactly treated well by his buyer. And we're still missing the last member of Sheppard's team—Rodney McKay. If the slaver can tell us who he was sold to and where we can find them, we can bring the last of our people home, finally."

Ashira's face fell. "That is all you wish?"

"Officially..." Lorne glanced back at his team. "Yes. Unofficially, and personally... it might make me a lesser man, but I want that fucking bastard to suffer. Sir."

Ashira's face brightened again, his expression turning predatory. "Then let us make sure he provides you with all the information you require. He will wish he never crossed us."

"Oh, I think we can bet on that. Why don't we compare notes, see if we can't make a few suggestions to each other on how to best...get information?"

"Come, friends," Ashira gestured them forward, rising from his seat. "Let us retire to a room more appropriate to our plans and I shall have food brought in. This is not something that should be done on an empty stomach."

Lorne grinned—this guy wasn't half bad. If he hadn't been so willing to negotiate once he realized Sheppard really wasn't a slave, it might have been different. But this? Was the start of a beautiful friendship.

***

And things just seemed to get worse.

Rodney woke with a guard holding him down on the ground as another injected his drug—not that he was going to argue, he couldn't, wouldn't. They dragged him to the labs, tossing him inside under the watchful eyes of two very large guards.

They withheld breakfast the next day until he was starting to shake and a cold sweat was forming on his forehead. And even then, they were reluctant to provide it, but he'd reached to a point he couldn't work anymore.

The afternoon went the same way, food withheld until he physically couldn't work and then he was given his injection and a bowl of soupy oatmeal.

And then, once the gag was back in place, he was told to continue to work until Kolya said it was enough.

And that could be tomorrow. Or the next day. Whatever he wanted.

He would jump through hoops to keep John safe.

And Kolya used that mercilessly. He no longer threatened Rodney physically—well not much beyond a few beatings. Instead, whenever he would start to flag, start to fail, Kolya would casually begin drawing up the orders to have John gang-raped of beaten or tortured. Or killed.

He made sure he did it on every pass he made through the labs…once every hour or so—or so it seemed. Rodney had lost track of day and night and time long ago.

As the afternoon wore on, Rodney realized two of the guards were speaking quietly. He wouldn't even have noticed if one of them hadn't said 'Sheppard', catching his attention.

He glanced up, eyes wide and questioning, paying attention to something other than the device in front of him.

"...as a reward. The commander was very pleased with the completion of our assignment. The man is pretty, and made some nice noises."

No. Nononono. That wasn't possible. He whimpered, unintentionally catching the guard's attention.

"Get back to work. Commander Kolya wants to see progress by the end of the day." He turned back to Goon Number Two, who smiled slyly. "If you really do something spectacular, the commander will let you take that Sheppard guy twice—once in the mouth, making him suck you down, then once from behind, until he's screaming."

Ordered to work, he had no choice, but his hands were shaking and he ended up dropping several tools, the fourth time something clattered to the floor they stopped talking again.

"Should we feed him again? Commander says he gets shaky when he doesn't get enough to eat."

"I don't know. He ate three hours ago. He can't be hungry already," the other one replied, moving closer.

"Rumor is that he was Sheppard's lover. Maybe he wants to be fucked."

Rodney shook his head, trying to concentrate on the device, but only managing to drop another tool to the floor.

"Much as I'd like to give him a try, see if he's as good a fuck, the commander would be pissed. If anyone gets to fuck this particular slave, it'll be him, or with him watching."

Rodney was still trembling, scared that they might change their minds, but also knowing that he needed the tool on the floor in order to work. He had to pick it up in order to work and the last order was still very fresh in his mind. He had to pick it up. Leaning down, Rodney grabbed the small screwdriver that had rolled off the desk.

As he moved to stand, a single finger was pushed inside him, making him freeze. "What do you think you're doing? You work until the commander tells you to stop."

He whimpered, holding up the small tool so the guard could see, but otherwise keeping perfectly still, not wanting the finger to go any deeper.

With a harsh laugh, the man pushed in further, making him whimper softly before pulling free again. "Get back to work. Stop dropping shit unless you want me to ask for permission to fuck you every time you do."

Rodney shook his head emphatically, finally standing straight once again.

With a pat to his ass, the guard returned to his position, going back to gossiping with the other one. Thankfully about something else this time.

He managed to pull his scattered thoughts back to the present, trying to put a few of the components he'd built into place.

Rodney knew when Kolya had walked in. The gossip stopped, and the whole room seemed to get darker. Cloud of doom and all that.

He didn't bother looking up. Kolya had done his impression of a storm cloud several times today and he was in the middle of working—what Kolya wanted him to do.

"Take off his gag. I want a status report."

Hands tugged at the back of his head, dragging him a step away from the lab table. A click indicated the lock was undone and then the gag was pulled free, his jaw aching fiercely, his mouth dry.

"Report."

Rodney tried to answer, but between the lack of use and the dryness, he didn't have much of a voice. "I…I…" He closed his eyes, trying to just get a small amount of spit to wet his mouth. "Some progress," he finally whispered, lifting his eyes briefly to Kolya before lowering them once again.

The man's eyes had narrowed. Without taking his eyes from Rodney, he gestured one of the guards over. "Water him."

The guard saluted and moved to get water from the tap, putting the glass in Rodney's hand. Rodney sipped it slowly, letting the water moisten his mouth. He finished what he was given—he'd learned to eat and drink whatever he was given. "Thank you," he whispered. His voice was still weak, but it was better.

"I didn't give it to you to be kind. I want a full report."

"I've been able to build several of the control components. I still need two other crystals to complete the last one. I've put in the ones I can."

"You will have them in the morning."

"Do you want me to write down exactly what I need?"

He nodded curtly. "I will return for it in an hour. Have it ready. Put his gag back on."

"Please…no…" Rodney whimpered. No. Please, not again.

Kolya didn't flinch, and the gag was roughly shoved back in Rodney's mouth.

He whimpered as it was buckled into place, the lock clicking and securing it.

"Perhaps when you learn not to speak unless you are asked for your opinion, the gag will come off. Until then, we will do it the hard way."

Rodney lowered his eyes, nodding miserably.

Kolya disappeared again, leaving him once more with the two guards who wanted to rape him, talking about how great raping Sheppard was.

Blinking back tears of frustration and fear, Rodney turned back to his work, carefully writing the list Kolya wanted, being very specific. He didn't have time for the men to get the materials wrong.

The end of the day came quickly, and he was jerked around again, manhandled into Kolya's office. Just before they walked in, the guard who had used his finger before whispered softly in McKay's ear, quiet enough that no one else could pick it up. "As soon as the commander loses interest in you, I'm going to take you so hard and so many times, you won't be able to walk straight for days."

All Rodney could do was look at him with wide-open eyes as he was hustled into the other room and secured to the torture device in the middle of the floor. Keeping his eyes down, he waited.

"Remove the gag and give him some water."

The guards were efficient, removing the offending device and placing it on Kolya's desk before letting Rodney sip at the cup of water. When he'd finally gotten several sips, the guard stepped back, putting the cup on the desk as well—directly in Rodney's line of sight, but completely out of reach—before moving back to his position next to the door.

"Report." Kolya hadn't moved, his fingers tented in front of him from where he sat behind the imposing desk.

"I finished the list you requested."

"And?"

"I started building the device. I went as far as I could until I get the parts I need," he replied quietly.

"Tomorrow you will begin working on the next part while my men retrieve what is needed to finish this one."

"I need the components they are retrieving before I can do more. The device is put together in a certain order so it works correctly."

"You'll give up an entire day of your three-day deadline?" Kolya tsked. "Things are not looking good for your Sheppard."

"I can't do anything else until I get those parts. Please believe me. I've done all I can with what I have. I don't want to screw it up. Please, I’m telling the truth."

"I don't really care, Doctor McKay. You will have the prototype in two more days, or I will kill Sheppard. It is that simple. You are a clever man, figure out a way to make it happen."

"I'm trying. Please….I'm doing my best, but I can't do the impossible."

"Actually, I believe I recall you claiming to do the impossible on a regular basis. You just need the proper encouragement." He picked up the gag, handing to a waiting guard, who approached Rodney again.

"Please, no. Please don't gag me again please."

Kolya raised an eyebrow, but waved the guard to be still. "I am not sure you have learned to curb your tongue yet. You still feel the need to spout out excuses."

"Please believe me. I'm doing the best I can. I can show you the blueprints and go over everything with you if you want. Please…please believe me."

After a minute that felt so stretched out it could have been hours, Kolya finally nodded, taking the gag back. "I will allow you to keep it off for now. However, the first attempt to talk back, or to simply spout off excuses, and it will go back on, permanently except to eat."

Rodney nodded, lowering his eyes and muttering a heartfelt "thank you."

"Return him to his cell and feed him. I will expect him in the labs working at dawn."

Rodney didn't protest, didn't fight as the guards unhooked him, leading him from Kolya's office. There was no point. He'd agreed to do this and there was no way out of it except by dying.

And right now, his cooperation was the only thing keeping John alive. He'd do whatever required to make sure it stayed that way.

***

Ronon stalked through the halls of Atlantis on his way to Sheppard's office. Lorne had called him in wanting to discuss something.

They needed to stop discussing and start acting.

Lorne looked up, smiling hugely when he saw Ronon. "Ah, just the guy I want to see. Close the door."

Ronon did as he asked, pacing around the room. "What did you want?"

Lorne's expression turned predatory. "I have a special mission for you that Weir can't know about until it's a done deal."

That made him stop and look at the other man. "What?"

Lorne leaned back in the chair, appraising him. "Officially, we have a policy in place that...discourages...retaliation for revenge's sake. However, I've struck a deal with Ashira. You capture the fucker Hadrious and deliver him to Ashira's court, and he'll torture him until he tells us who he sold McKay to. And then he'll make the rest of the slaver's life as hellish as he can make it."

"We just have to catch him?"

"Well, feel free to rough him up a bit, just don't damage him permanently. The problem is that Weir will eventually find out, and if he's in our hands, odds are good we'll have to let him go—or at least not do all the very nasty things to him that I really want to do. And, seeing as he broke several of that planet's laws, Ashira is well within his rights to do whatever he wants to the bastard once he has him. It's a win-win situation."

"So we capture him for Ashira and he gets the info on McKay."

"Pretty much. He doesn't have the manpower to spare to go after the guy and we do. We don't have the rights or the infrastructure to deal with him once we catch him, and Ashira does."

"When do we leave?"

Lorne smiled. "You and Teyla are coming with my team to the planet tomorrow as backup and additional personnel. We'll drop you with the team still at Milkia's, who will be your back-up. The slave market is in town at the moment, so it's a good base of operations. Once you have Hadrious, you'll bring him by jumper to Ashira's court, and we'll wash our hands of him. All told, I don't want him to be in our possession for more than an hour or two at most."

Ronon nodded, growing to like Lorne more and more. "That won't be a problem. Who's flying the jumper?"

"Mitchell. He's one of the Marines with Cadman. Peterson will stay with her at Milkia's place, and Kristoff will accompany you, Teyla and Mitchell as an additional guard for the transfer. Mitchell will be in the jumper at all times. During the operation, you will check in every fifteen minutes, or my team will return and rendezvous with the others to come in and retrieve you."

"What are you telling Weir?"

"We're still hammering out the details of our treaty with Ashira—surprisingly, he's a pretty good guy. I don't really like the whole slave thing, but then, I'm guessing there are things he wouldn't like about our culture. He's asked about Sheppard a few times, seems genuinely concerned about him."

Concerned he doesn't have a bedmate maybe. He huffed instead.

Lorne sighed. "I know what you're thinking. For what it's worth, he did seem to care about Sheppard. And he did let him go without a fight once we convinced him the Colonel wasn't a slave."

"Doesn't matter."

Lorne just shrugged. "Either way, he can make Hadrious suffer a lot more and for a lot longer than we can, especially once Weir finds out."

"Don't tell her."

"Wasn't planning on it. But she's scary, and bound to find out at some point."

Ronon huffed again. "Not as scary as most."

"Give her time. She puts you at ease first, makes you think she's harmless, then she busts out the scary on your ass."

Ronon looked at Lorne for a long moment, thinking of all the women he knew who could wield guns, knives, and sticks even better than he could. These people didn't know what scary was. "When do we go?"

Lorne chuckled. "This afternoon. We're scheduled to meet with Ashira later, and you and Teyla are, officially, going in to help relieve Cadman's team a bit. Considering that damn market is open for business during the day, that should give you plenty of time for prep and briefing of the ground situation before making a night assault."

Seemed reasonable. He nodded. "Okay."

"All right, be ready in the jumper bay at 1500 hours."

He nodded again and when Lorne didn't add anything he headed out. He wanted to do a little training before they left. It never hurt to be prepared.

***

John—Jita—John?—woke up to pain, searing through him. He tried to move, but found his limbs didn’t respond, were strapped down. He whimpered, tugging on them harder, not really understanding what was going on.

Hands were on his arm, rubbing gently on the skin. Voices were indistinct at first, but finally growing into words. "John, it's okay. Shush. Calm down."

He cracked his eyes, shaking as his body responded to the order. "C...Carson?"

"Aye. There you are."

He sucked in huge breaths. Memories warred with each other, faces, names, places, but over all of it was overwhelming need. "Pria?"

"No, John. There's no pria anymore. You're going through withdrawal from the drug."

He sobbed, trying once more to twist away, to buck out of the restraints. He needed it! He would die if he didn't get more. "Just a little, please, take the edge off, calm me down, I'll be good..."

"You're not going to die and you are on something to help you keep the edge off. That's what's in one of the IVs. You're going to get very good care, but I wanted to bring you up enough to see how you were fairing."

Shaking, he settled back down again. He wanted to be held, comforted. But he didn't know who to ask for. His brain, which wasn't even sure what his name was, couldn't decide between calling for Ashira or Rodney. So he settled on sobbing softly again. "Hurts."

"I'll give you something to take care of that in a minute. You've been here for a day already. Do you know where you are?"

He shook his head, eyes squeezed tight again. It hurt to think, he didn't want to think. He just wanted pria.

Carson patted his arm again. "Okay. We'll just give you a little something for the pain then. It'll make you sleepy so don't fight it."

"Pria?"

"No, John. No pria."

"Please?" He slit his eyes open again, focusing on the man standing above him. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did to make you angry...so sorry..."

"You didn't make me angry. Pria is not good for you…it harms you. I'm trying to make you better, but it's going to hurt a little until I can."

"No, makes me feel good..."

"I know it did. But that doesn't mean that it was good for you. You need to trust me, John."

Tears leaked out and he tugged on the restraints again, to no effect. "H...hold me? Please, need to be touched..."

Carson slid away for a moment, tugging on the wires and tubes before returning, hand resting on his shoulder. "Just relax, John. You'll feel better in a minute."

He tried to arch into the hand, tried to get more contact, sobbing again when he couldn't. Even through the pain, he could feel his body screaming for attention, for touches. He turned his head into the pillow, moaning in frustration and hurt.

Carson simply touched him, stroking his hand slightly, whispering for him to relax, to breathe, to calm down, telling him that it would be all right.

Slowly, he felt a warmth running through him, dulling the pain enough that the desire started to become more prominent. "Please... Touch me... Need..."

"Shush, John. You're going to be fine."

He turned his head, mouth open, trying to press kisses into skin, seeking the slightly salty taste it would have in his mouth. He made another noise of frustration when Carson moved to prevent it.

"Just relax, John. Let the drugs help you get better."

"Jita." He said as the pull of the darkness got to be more than he could fight. "My name..."

"Is John."

With another soft moan, he slipped into unconsciousness again.

***

Elizabeth sighed, leaning back in her office chair, her eyes burning from staring at the screen. Stretching, she rose to her feet, walking slowly outside to the nearest balcony.

The last few weeks had been hellish on everyone. From the first missed radio check, to the rescue team's failure to find them the first time, the second, and the third…

And then Ronon came home.

Teyla followed shortly thereafter, but finding John had been hard. Harder than anyone thought it would be.

Three down, one to go.

Leaning against the rail, she let her eyes drift over the city. She heard the door open behind her several minutes later, but she ignored it. She just needed a few minutes to herself.

Another body leaned against the railing next to her. A quick glance showed it was Carson, looking haggard and worn. He didn't say anything, just joined her, looking out over the city.

They stayed like that, side-by-side, for several minutes before Carson finally broke the silence.

"I woke him up. Briefly."

Elizabeth sighed. From Carson's darkened eyes it hadn't been good. But then, after seeing John on the planet, she hadn't been expecting good. "And?"

"He's in pain, even with what I'm giving him to help. Begging alternately for his pria and to be touched. He's still confused about who he is, where he is, but a few times I think he recognized me as more than just the chap who stole him away from his master."

"That's good."

"Aye." He sighed, leaning more heavily on the railing. "In the next few days I expect his full memories will return as the drug works out of his system. Then we see how much of this past month he remembers."

She nodded.  It was more or less as Carson had figured. She'd been hoping it would be easier, but why should things be any different? "And the antidote? Any progress?"

He shook his head. "We've hit on a combination that is helping, but unfortunately his body just has to work through it. As bad as he is, I'd hate to see him with nothing to take the edge off. As it is, he's just desperate and confused, tugging on the restraints a bit, but not really fighting them. With nothing to help him through, I've no doubt he would be actively injuring himself."

"Good," she said, nodding. "Lorne's team is headed off-world again. They're still trying to find more information."

"Aye, I'm dreading when John comes to himself enough to ask about Rodney. It is'na going to be pretty."

"I know."

"I might need you there when I do tell him. Odds are good he'll need to be ordered to stand down."

"So don't tell him."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You'd rather he thought Rodney was here and just avoiding him once he's in enough of a right mind to ask?"

She sighed, looking back out over the city. "We just need to find Rodney before John asks."

He gave her a small smile. "Aye, now that would be the ideal. But I canna count on it. I'm taking him completely off the drugs in probably the next day or so. I can't risk longer than that."

She nodded again. "Let's deal with it then."

He ran a hand through his hair, starting to push away from the railing. She was struck by just how dark the circles were under his eyes. "I'll let you know if there is any more change."

"Thank you, Carson."

He squeezed her arm once. "We'll fix him. And we'll find Rodney and fix him up, too."

She turned to him, voicing the question that had been running through her head for days. "Do you really think he's still alive?"

"Yes." There was no doubt or hesitation in his answer.

"He wasn't trained for anything like this. None of us were."

"Aye, and he's done a right good job thus far. Don't give up hope. We'll find him."

"I can't imagine what would happen to all of us if we don't."

"I can't imagine what will happen to John. After this... If we dinna find Rodney, we might yet lose them both. So don't stop hoping, lass."

Something clenched deep inside of her. "He'll get over it in time," she said, turning back to her view.

Carson sighed. "I'm not so sure. But with a little luck, he won't have to."

She nodded, not sure what else to say. What she wanted and what she got were oftentimes two very different things.

He patted her shoulder again. After a moment, she heard the swish of the doors, telling her she was alone again.

She stayed there for several minutes more before she sighed herself and pushed off the rail heading back inside. There was always work to do. And it kept her mind away from some of the more…depressing of the possible outcomes.

At least during the day. Night was another story entirely.

***

Sometime in the middle of the next day, the components Rodney needed finally arrived. He'd been trying to find work to do all morning, but it was hard. He'd re-written some of his notes, adjusted some of the blueprints, even make more accurate lists of materials so the men would be able to find the materials easier the next time.

Next time.

Rodney knew there was going to be a next time. And a time after that. And after that.

He could see the unending monotony of the rest of his life interspersed with moments of sheer terror and fear.

But as long as John was alive…

The door clanged open a few minutes after his parts arrived, Kolya striding in.

Rodney immediately stopped working, lowering his head and eyes, his hands clasped behind his back. And he waited.

Kolya's hand cupped his face, thumb brushing intimately along his jaw. "You now have everything you need to complete this project on schedule?"

"Yes, sir," Rodney replied, voice quiet, eyes focused on Kolya's lapel. Obedience was easy now. Simple. He didn't think of leaving, of the life he had before. His job was to do as Kolya ordered and keep John safe. Nothing else mattered.

"Very good. I will expect a report tonight. You will have tomorrow to complete the weapon, and we will test it the following day."

"Yes, sir." Rodney could still feel the movement of his thumb against his jaw, brushing against the hair of his beard—the one he'd never been allowed to get rid of.

Kolya's finger moved, brushing over Rodney's lips. Slight pressure told him the commander wanted entrance.

Closing his eyes, Rodney parted his lips, trying to imagine it was John, wanting it to be.

Kolya's soft chuckle was harsh, jarring, as he slowly fucked Rodney's mouth with his finger. It didn't last long, fortunately, before he pulled away. "Get back to work, Rodney. I will see you tonight for a report."

Rodney simply nodded, waiting until he heard the door close before he turned back to the lab table, wishing his skin wasn't so pale, wishing he didn't blush under the guards' gazes.

"Look at him, Lassk. He pants for the commander. Maybe it wasn't that Sheppard guy after all, pretty as he is. Maybe this one just gets off on being fucked by people with power."

They didn't know anything about him, about why he did this, why he submitted to Kolya. Didn't understand what he'd given up to make sure John was safe. They'd never understand.

Setting his jaw, his lips pressed tightly together, he quickly moved to get the new components integrated. Once he built these, he could continue with the construction of the final product.

They continued to gossip, about John, about him, about people he had never heard of. After a while he was able to tune them out as he worked. His work was all that mattered.

He was fed and watered when the guards remembered, usually when his hands were trembling, but even then he only paused long enough to shove the food down before turning back to his project. He had so much to do with so little time.

By the end of the day, when he was shaking again with hunger, mixed with fatigue, he was brought to Kolya and strapped down. It was becoming routine. "Ah, Doctor McKay. I hear you were quite focused today."

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the words instead of the diagrams and circuits and wires in his head. "Work…have to finish."

"Yes, you are proving to be quite dedicated. Most excellent. I believe hard work deserves a reward. Sheppard will be allowed to sleep alone tonight." He heard Kolya move, and a heartbeat later fresh cooked meat was pressed against his lips.

He opened his eyes and gazed up at Kolya in surprise even as he opened his mouth, letting the meat slide in.

"Good work is rewarded, Rodney. Just as disobedience is punished." Another bite of real food was given to him. "Bring a razor and supplies to shave him. As I recall, he was most anxious to be rid of the beard."

One of the guards left the room as Rodney chewed and swallowed the meat. He had to ask, even knowing it would displease Kolya. But he had to. He needed to. "Sheppard? Can I see him?"

"No." Kolya fed him another bite as he talked. "You are being held in separate facilities. I will not make the mistake of allowing you close to one another again."

"Please? I'll be good. Please. I just need to make sure he's okay…see for myself."

The hair on his face was given a sharp tug. "Do not make me regret rewarding you, Rodney."

Whimpering, Rodney looked up, knowing his eyes were wide, pleading. "Please."

"No. And if you ask again, Sheppard will pay the price."

Nononono. Rodney whimpered, but subsided, his eyes focusing on Kolya's belt without really seeing it, the only thing at eye level. He just needed to see John. Just once. Just to make sure he was okay, that what he did was making a difference.

"Very good." Another bite of food was pressed to his lips. "Obedience is rewarded. Disobedience is punished. Never forget that. You will not see Sheppard because he is not at this facility. I have many facilities across the galaxy, and I am not foolish enough to underestimate either of you. Perhaps, if you are particularly good, I will arrange a video feed."

Rodney took the bite of food and nodded as best as he could, resigned to whatever Kolya would give him. Kolya had purchased his obedience, his submission, when he bought John. He would get what he paid for.

The guard returned shortly after that, and Kolya stepped aside to give him access. "Do not damage him. I still have a need for his skills. But leave him clean-shaven."

Rodney whimpered as soon as he saw the supplies—the scissors, the straight razor, the foam—trying to draw back from the guard, the one who'd talked about fucking Sheppard, about what they'd already done, what they were planning to do. To have him touch him so intimately after that…

"Do not move, Doctor McKay." Kolya's voice cut through his impending panic.

"Please, no. Not him. Please," Rodney begged even as he stilled.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kolya raise an eyebrow in surprise. "You have a preference of guard?"

"Can you? Please?" It hurt to ask, but he had to. Kolya would make sure nothing went wrong. He still needed him.

He could hear the amusement dripping from the commander's voice. "You would prefer I shave you? Interesting. Perhaps I will. In the meantime," his voice got hard, demanding. "Why does he frighten you? Tell me."

Rodney closed his eyes, knowing the truth would damn the other man. He didn't want to say, didn't want to be a tattletale. But he had to, he couldn't refuse. "Doesn't care what happens to me…or Sheppard. Hates guarding me."

"That is a given. You are a slave, and he is not. No...you would not be so foolish as to object unless you had a good reason. Tell me." Rodney saw the sudden fear on the guard's face as he backed away slowly. A curt gesture from Kolya and the guard was grabbed by two other men in the room.

"He touched me."

"How?" If anything, the commander's voice got harder, angrier.

Rodney closed his eyes again, squeezing them tightly together, not wanting to say, but unable to stop. He knew what happened to prisoners who squealed. "With his finger. In my ass."

Kolya rounded on the guard, fury in his voice. "You touched him, against my express orders, Herick?"

"He's lying, Commander. You know I would never disobey you."

"He can't lie, idiot. He has too much of the drug in his system to be able to fight my command to talk, or to lie to me when he did. Hold him." A moment later and Rodney heard the sound of Kolya's fist as it connected solidly with the soldier's stomach.

Rodney whimpered as each blow hit, wincing, knowing it had been his words that had done that, caused this.

"Did you think I would never find out? You knew the penalty for touching him without permission."

The guard couldn't answer, panting and moaning in pain. Rodney couldn't look, wouldn't look. The guards would find a way to get back at him. He knew they would. And he'd let them do what they wanted because if he resisted it would only be worse.

But another part of his mind, though, reminded him that Kolya's order had protected him—would protect him—from abuse at the guards' hands. The guards feared disobedience, feared punishment. So Kolya protected him, was protecting him, would protect him—as long as he made Kolya happy and did what he wanted.

The beating continued until the man was bloody and unconscious. "Take him to the infirmary. He is to remain under guard. As soon as he is able to move again, I will have a new assignment for him. And if anyone else thinks to abuse my slave without my permission, know that I will find out, and I will not tolerate it. Go. Get him out of my sight."

The guards complied, leaving Kolya alone with Rodney even as he trembled in his bindings, whimpering quietly, not sure what was to come next once the commander turned his attention on him.

Kolya walked around him several times before stopping in front of him, hand cupping Rodney's face gently. "I apologize for the abuse. Herick will be punished severely. There are standing orders that you are not to be touched. Now, why don't we get rid of this beard, and finish feeding you dinner?"

Rodney nodded, leaning slightly into his hand, the touch, grateful he wasn't getting punished along with the guard. "Please."

Kolya's fingers were gentle as he shaved Rodney, his fingers caressing even as they worked. When the last of the itchy hair was gone and the soap washed away, Kolya rubbed at Rodney's mouth with the pad of his thumb.

Rodney trembled, his body responding to the kindness, the comfort, the intimacy of the moment. He knew it was wrong, the fleeting memory of John and the things they shared flaring up only to quickly fade once again.

"Yes, Rodney. That's it. Open up to me, trust me. I will take care of you. I only punish you because I must, not because I enjoy it. But you are not going to disobey and force me to hurt you anymore are you? Because this is much more pleasurable."

He was so tired of fighting, so tired of hurting. He was so scared. So alone. But Kolya was kind to him, protected him.

Kolya continued to stroke his face, as his other hand wandered over Rodney's body. When he was completely relaxed, more food was pressed to his lips. "Very, very good, Rodney."

Even while his conscience screamed and yelled within, Rodney pushed it to the side, burying it with his pride and what was left of his soul. He didn't want to hurt anymore. Didn't want to fight. Submitting and obeying meant kindness and an absence of pain and suffering—and it kept John alive. He had to keep John alive. Whatever Kolya wanted he would have.

He chewed and swallowed the food he was given, humming at the taste, at the touch of hands and fingers against skin. It felt right—and wrong—but even that was fading away along with all of his other memories of time and place and people.

All except John. He had to keep John safe. He didn't care what he had to go through. For John it was worth it—even if it cost him his soul and his life.

Laughing softly, Kolya fed him the last of the meal. When the food was gone, he leaned in, pressing his mouth to Rodney's, tongue demanding entrance.

Rodney parted his lips, moaning slightly at the taste of Kolya's mouth and lips and tongue. It was so different from John. Rougher. Demanding. Merciless. Taking what he wanted, like the others… Memory flared for a brief second to reveal a name—Ivan—before rushing away once again, leaving him with Kolya—his hands, his touch, his tongue—overwhelming his senses.

The commander pulled back when Rodney was in a complete daze. "Very good, Rodney. Come, I will escort you to your cell, and have another talk with the guards. They will not bother you again."

"Thank you, sir," he whispered, letting Kolya unhook him and tug him upright. Pliable. Willing. Submissive. It was safe here. Kolya would protect him.

He was led back to his cell, gently pressed into the bed, a blanket—heavier than the one he had been given before, warmer—was pulled over him. "Sleep, Rodney. You have a big day tomorrow."

Rodney nodded, his eyes already closing as Kolya's hand held the side of his head, fingers curling around to the back of his neck. Another kiss—this one more possessive and demanding—was pressed to his lips and without a second thought he opened his mouth, letting Kolya in, moaning under the pressure. Here, like this, he was safe.

"Good night, Rodney." The words were ghosted over his lips before Kolya straightened and strode out of the room.

The locked clicked shut a moment later and then he was tumbling headlong into slumber, feeling oddly safe and valuable, the nagging worry and wrongness he'd felt before finally gone.

***

Evan Lorne lounged on the cushions Ashira had provided for him, the rest of his team similarly sprawled out, nibbling occasionally on goodies. He was on edge, nervous. The other jumper should have arrived with Hadrious an hour ago, and they were late. A curt check-in assured him they hadn’t been captured, but they refused to explain the delay.

They had hammered out a pretty good treaty that both sides would benefit from, but Evan knew Ashira was just as anxious as he was right now. He wanted the slaver almost as badly as they did.

Finally, his comm crackled. They were here. “Sir, my team is on its way in with the slaver. If you could have your guards meet them and direct them to us.”

"Of course," Ashira said, waving one of his attendants forward. "Bring the slaver to my court. I wish to see his face."

The man—Evan was pretty sure his name was Jacquil, and he had been one of the ones who had taken care of Sheppard—bowed slightly before heading out the door. "So tell me, what do you have in mind for our bastard slaver?"

"I have yet to decide," Ashira said with a sigh. "I need to see how…repentant he is."

Evan snorted softly. "As much as I need to know who he sold McKay to, I can't help but hope he resists a little. I want that fucker to suffer."

"That can be arranged."

He shared a brief, predatory look with the leader of this domain, and then the guards were leading his men in, dragging a man with them who looked like he had been more than a little roughed up. "Ronon, I thought I told you to make sure he was all in one piece!"

The Satedan shrugged as he walked in. "He is."

Getting to his feet, Evan inspected the half-dead man. "This is him?"

Ashira was at his side a moment later, lifting the injured man's chin so he could look him in the face—his swollen and bruised and battered face. The man managed to spit at him, the drop of bloody saliva landing on Ashira's robe.

Without a thought, Ashira backhanded him and strode away, disgust on his face as he tugged off his outer robe. "It is."

"Ronon, Kristoff, why don't you present our gift to Honored Ashira?" He gestured for Teyla to join him—she was a better diplomat anyway. "Sir, it is with great pleasure that we present this little gift to you, to do with as you please."

Ashira turned, amusement on his face. "While pleasure is not what I have in mind for this piece of jatuck, I accept your gift and your assistance. I believe we shall have a very long and fruitful alliance."

Evan bowed low. "I couldn't agree more, sir. And allow me to introduce Ronon Dex, the man who retrieved our gift and a member of Colonel Sheppard's team. And Teyla Emmagan, also a member of the Colonel's team."

Ashira returned the gesture, smiling at both Ronon and Teyla. "I apologize for your somewhat…awkward introduction to our world. I hope that I can make it up to you, at least a little."

Teyla smiled and gave a short bow. "I have heard our negotiations with you have been most fruitful. And we thank you for returning Colonel Sheppard to us. He was most sorely missed."

"Yes," Ashira said, his face falling a little. "I can imagine that to be so."

Evan cleared his throat, shooting a glance over at Teyla and Ronon. "Ashira has asked if Colonel Sheppard could return for a visit, once he is recovered from his dependency on the pria. He is anxious to make sure he's okay—his last view of the Colonel wasn't that...encouraging."

Ronon growled, his face darkening even as Teyla stepped in. "I believe it would be best for that decision to remain with Colonel Sheppard. We would not wish to force him into anything."

"Of course." Ashira gave another sad smile. "I would not ask you to force it upon him. I merely asked the Major to convey my regards, and my invitation. Ji…Colonel Sheppard…will be missed from my court as well. This is not his place, but having lost him for a bit, I can assume you know the pang of loss and worry."

Hadrious laughed, the sound harsh and ending with a hacking cough. "He was a slave. No more, no less—and a pretty one at that."

Ashira turned a poisonous gaze on him. "Quiet, slaver. You deceived my buyer, took a man into slavery against our laws. For that I have been forced to give up one I highly prized and cared for. You will learn what happens when you break our laws soon enough."

"I'm not from your world. I don't have to abide by your laws."

"If you wish to sell to us, you will abide by our rules." Evan was surprised by the absolute way with which Ashira yielded his power. He had been genial with them, even when he had been angry. But this... it demonstrated why this man was in power to begin with. "By our laws, it is well within my right to replace a slave I was wrongly sold—with the one who sold him to me. You are not nearly worth what my Jita was, make no mistake about that. But I will have information from you, and I will retrieve the rest of the rue I paid from your own skin."

Hadrious just shook his head. "My men will retrieve me and will torch this shack."

"Hang on to your defiance, slaver. It will make breaking you all the sweeter. Guards, take him to a holding cell. He fowls my court with his stench. I will deal with him later."

Kristoff eagerly handed him over to Ashira's guards, wiping his hands on his pants. Teyla turned to Ashira. "What do you intend to do with him?"

"I will break him. He will tell me who he sold your McKay to, and I will pass that information along. And then he will spend the rest of his days screaming for mercy that he will not receive."

Teyla's mouth tightened around the edges. "Perhaps—"

Ashira shook his head. "I know that your ways are not ours. However, what I do with him, I do within the bounds of our planet's laws. When he took Jita and the rest of your team as slaves, he broke a fundamental rule. He must be punished, or others will seek to do the same."

Lorne could tell that she was not happy. It seemed Ronon hadn't told her the details of their…mission. She inclined her head finally. "I understand and appreciate your assistance in locating our friend and teammate."

He nodded. "Now, as always, I offer all of you the hospitality of my court for as long as you wish to remain. I must excuse myself to meet with my councilors to decide how to proceed with the slaver."

"I believe we need to return to our home," Teyla said, pinning Lorne with a look.

He winced. Oh yeah, she was gonna tell Weir, and he was going to get himself a new one ripped. But it was worth it. "We need to report in to Doctor Weir, and check on the Colonel, sir. We'll return at the end of the week to see how you're progressing with Hadrious."

"Is there a way to contact you before that time?"

"Yes, sir. At the establishment of one Milkia near the slave market, we have a small team in residence. He was Teyla's owner, and one of our people—Laura Cadman—is filling in as part of an agreement to release her until we find a permanent replacement. If you need to contact us before we return, you can contact her, and she will get a message back to us. I can also leave you with a radio so we can contact you. We can show you how to use it."

"I know him. He is another devious one." Ashira nodded. "I shall contact her if we make progress."

Lorne felt his eyes widen, suddenly concerned for Cadman. "Devious, sir? We have an agreement with him, and people in there..."

"He will honor it," Ashira said, pausing for a beat. "He is not what he seems."

"Oh?" Evan had a feeling there was something here he needed to know.

"He holds more land and businesses than all of the great Lords combined. He is very powerful, much more than I."

Evan swallowed hard. Shit, they were going to have to be extra careful with whomever they found to replace Teyla. "We'll be careful, sir, and thank you for the warning. Hopefully we'll find a woman to replace Teyla as a guard for his brothel shortly, and then we won't need to have further dealings with him."

"Is that what he purchased her for?"

Evan shot a look over at Teyla, but answered, hoping he wasn't getting it wrong. "As I understand it, yes, sir. He was pretty adamant about what he wanted us to find as a replacement, and from what Teyla has told me, her role was focused primarily around the protection of the women from—overeager suitors."

"Yes. Most likely. He runs a very profitable business." Ashira turned to Jacquil. "Bring me Leahi. See if she would be willing to take on an assignment." He nodded and left, heading out through a small side door.

Evan blinked. "Sir?"

"Ever since Shella left, I no longer have eyes inside of Mikia's house. Leahi is very talented and would be an appropriate replacement."

Teyla's eyes widened. "Shella worked for you? I heard much about her, and she was well-liked by the women in the brothel."

"Yes," Ashira nodded. "She earned her freedom and volunteered for work in Milkia's brothel until she earned her freedom again. I paid her handsomely for her work and when her time was completed she would be free to leave and would have something to get her started."

"Huh." Lorne had to admit—he hadn't seen this one coming. "Okay, your politics are a lot more convoluted than I thought. No offense meant of course."

Ashira offered a smile. "I have several individuals working within my walls who report back to Milkia and others." He shrugged. "It is the way of things."

"How do you keep track of all the spies? Isn't it more trouble than it's worth, especially if you all know who everyone else has spying for them?"

Ashira shrugged again. "Milkia does not pay attention to his spies. He does not think we will ever…challenge him. But I still like to remain informed as to what is happening."

"Huh." Evan knew he was repeating himself, but the reaction was no less valid now than five minutes ago.

"Do not attempt to make sense of it, Major Lorne," he said with a chuckle as he rose. "I thank you for your assistance."

Evan bowed again, then gathered his people up, heading for the two jumpers. "All right, let's go report in." He shot a sideways glance at Teyla, wondering if he could convince her to forget the whole Hadrious thing.

"And what are we to report?"

"Well, about the intelligence on the intelligence network here, and that Ashira is sending someone to Milkia's house to replace you..."

"And what are we to say about Hadrious?"

He winced. "Ah, nothing? It will only irritate Doctor Weir, and there's nothing we can do about it now anyway... And he is, hopefully, going to find out who bought Doctor McKay so we can track him down, too..."

She was silent for a long moment, her gaze intense as she stared at him. "And what do you wish of me?"

He sighed. "I won't ask you to lie for me, Teyla. If you feel like she needs to know, I won't stop you. I stand behind my decision. That fucking bastard needs to suffer for what he did, and we don't have the right or the facilities to do it. Ashira does."

"Very well," she said, moving to the second jumper that Mitchell was piloting.

Evan blinked a few times, but shrugged, heading to his own jumper. He would find out what Teyla decided soon enough.

Ronon followed him into his jumper.

Evan glanced back, surprised again as the Satedan settled right behind Lorne's chair. Shrugging, assuming the other man would speak if he had something on his mind, Evan began preflight.

"She's upset."

"Who?"

"Teyla. She didn't get a chance to pound him."

"I thought she was pissed because Ashira is planning to torture Hadrious."

"She is."

Taking the jumper up, he shook his head. "I'll never understand women. We're getting the information we need, and Hadrious is getting what he deserves. What's the problem?"

"She wanted to do it."

Startled, Evan looked back. "Wait, she's not pissed that we ensured Hadrious is going to suffer, she's pissed that she isn't the one who gets to inflict it?"

"She saw McKay before she left the market."

"Oh." Evan deflated. "You didn't let her get in a few shots bringing him in? You knew we were handing him over."

"You didn't tell me to."

"I didn't know she wanted to."

"She worries about McKay."

"Yeah. Everyone does. But we'll find him. We have to."

"Sheppard will kill you if you don’t."

Evan nodded. Once Sheppard was in his right mind again, he would definitely kill his second if there was no news on his lover. They needed to find McKay fast.

***

As he resurfaced, John was aware of the restraints, of a lingering pain in all his limbs. And a desperate craving.

And memories.

Oh god. Oh fuck. Oh god….

He must have twitched or made a noise because there was suddenly a hand on his arm, and a soft voice.

"John?"

"Carson?" It was barely a whisper, and he cracked his eyes to see the doctor, his friend, looking down at him. "What... I don't..." He took a deep breath. "What happened?" He chanted to himself: Tell me it was all a fucked up dream. Tell me these...memories...were just the product of an over-active imagination or an Ancient device.

"How about you answer a few questions of mine and then I fill in the rest? I'd rather not repeat something if you already know it."

"Okay." He was going to ask about the lab, about what he could remember about whatever device Rodney had had him playing with. There would be no mention of slaves or sex or....

"Your name and rank."

Jita. No, that wasn't right. That was the dream name. "John Sheppard, Lieutenant Colonel in the USAF."

"Good." Carson smiled. "I am?"

"C..Carson Beckett. Chief Medical Officer of Atlantis. Where's Rodney?"

Beckett ignored his question. "You recognize where you are?"

"Atlantis, the infirmary. Where is Rodney? What happened to me?" He shuddered as a random craving washed over him, making his skin itch, making him want to beg to be touched. No. Fuck, no, please, it was just a dream.

"What's the last thing you clearly remember? It's just the two of us here, so be as candid as you want."

"It was a dream." John closed his eyes.

Carson's voice was quiet. "What was?"

"All of it. Tell me it was a dream." He jerked slightly on his restraints.

"I donna know. What do you remember last?"

"S…sex. Need. Craving it, begging for it. But that was just a dream, right? I'm feeling...itchy... because of something I touched, right?"

"Anything else?"

John shuddered. "Carson? I know this sounds weird but...touch me? God, I don't know why I need, but please... And tell me what's going on... Please?"

The Scot laid a hand on John's arm as he tugged a chair forward. "You are currently in the middle of drug withdrawal. You haven't been very coherent the past few days which is why you are restrained."

No. Nononono. He started to shake, even as he arched into Carson's hand, almost involuntarily, craving the comfort of the contact. "God, it was real? Oh god oh god oh god..."

"John, come on, lad. Calm down. You're all right. Just have a bit of a rough patch…" he said, rubbing his arm, trying to speak soothingly.

"No... I... Carson I remember... Oh god... I..." Memories rushed over him, disconnected from each other, but so vivid. The way the drug felt washing over him. Being touched. Being fucked. Spending all night in his master's bed. His whole universe narrowed down to pleasure and craving it from one man.

One man who wasn't Rodney.

"John, talk to me. Tell me what you're seeing. I don't want to sedate you again if I don't have to."

Taking a deep breath, John tried to get his bearings. "J...Jita. They called me... And I... craved it. H…hated the days I wasn't allowed in his bed." The contrast was striking. He normally avoided being touched, with very few exceptions. Now he wanted to beg for the contact. "Touch, god, the need to be touched. Even now... Like I've been conditioned to need it..."

"That's the drug actually," Carson said, his hand continuing to stroke John's arm.

John shook his head. "No, that's... God, I want it. Pria, right? It's called... And god, it feels so good, makes me feel... makes everything feel so good... But right now, it's like an itch, in the back of my head. A need, like water or food."

"Aye, pria, the drug was designed to make you feel good and crave to be touched—at least that was how it was explained to us. You were given five doses a day to keep you at a constant level. More on other days."

John swallowed, memories flooding back. "I remember...the first dose. I was fighting it, and they made me swallow. And then... God, it felt so good, even the eddies of air around me..."

"Aye. I imagine so."

He shivered again, talking about it making him crave it again. "How addictive was it? How long will I... will I want it like this? Like if you let me out of these restraints, I'd be tempted to break free, go through the gate and go back, just to get more?"

"Maybe. I'm hoping you can tell me. I'd rather not keep you restrained, but I will if I need to."

"I hate the restraints... But if you let me up, I don't know if I can fight it." He turned his head away, hating himself. But for the weakness or the honesty in admitting it so Carson wouldn't let him up, he didn't know.

"Then we'll keep them on for the time being. We've lowered your dose of the cocktail we've been feeding you to help you through the withdrawal. It will probably make you sleepy, so it might just be easier to sleep it off as much as you can," Carson said, rising to his feet, patting John's arm. "Either me or Suzanne will be in to check on you regularly."

"Nonono! Carson! Don't... don't leave me alone, not yet. Please? God, I'm a fucking wreck... Wait, Rodney, you still haven't told me where Rodney is. And Teyla and Ronon. We were all sold, separated. Where is my team?" He started fighting the restraints again in his agitation, needing to know his people were okay.

Carson turned, surprise on his face. "Well, that's the most you remembered about the incident since we found you. Do you remember anything else?"

"What happened to them? Where are they?" He fought off the itchy feeling and the pull of Carson's drugs.

"You said you remembered that you were sold. Was there anything else you remembered?"

"I'll tell you after you answer my questions. Come on, Carson, tell me where they are. Where is Rodney? I've been good, please..." His eyes widened as he realized what he had said, but it didn't make him back down.

Carson sighed, moving back to sit down once again, his hand on John's arm. "Ronon was sold to a man who needed some…manual labor. He didn't like the arrangement and broke out. He's fine. A few cuts and bruises and a bullet wound to his upper arm which is already healed."

John relaxed, once more attempting to shift so he was pushing harder into Carson's hand. He would worry about this sudden need to be touched later. "Good. Teyla? Rodney?"

"Teyla was sold to a man named Milkia who ran a brothel among other things," Carson said, his hand moving slowly on John's arm.

John tried to stiffen up, but Carson's hand was distracting him, soothing him. "Since you know that, she's okay? Did they hurt her?"

"She's fine. Not a scratch on her. Cadman's still on the planet taking her place, but I think she'd scheduled to head back to Atlantis today."

"Taking her place? In a brothel? Cadman?!"

Carson had the sense to look uneasy. "Aye, that didn't sound right did it?"

"Carson...." John knew he wasn't very menacing at the moment, but he made an effort.

"Teyla was purchased as the brothel's…bouncer. We were able to negotiate an agreement with Milkia—the owner. We got a team on the planet and Cadman took Teyla's place as a security guard."

John sighed. So she hadn't been used like he had. Thank god. "And Rodney?"

"Was sold, aye."

"And? To who? Where is he? Is he okay?"

Carson sighed again, meeting John's gaze. "We don't know. We haven’t been able to find him yet."

John's eyes widened, and he started to struggle again. "Let me up. Let me go. I need to find Rodney now."

"You are not going anywhere, John. Lorne is looking, has been looking. We've gotten a few leads and he's tracking them down." Carson tightened his grip on John's arm. "We're doing everything we can."

Shuddering, John subsided, but shook his head. "Rodney, oh god... Please let him be okay. Please..."

"I know, John. I know. We're doing everything we can, but right now you have to concentrate on getting better."

Licking his lips, John turned his head, shifting so it was resting against Carson's arm, if at an awkward angle. "Where have they looked? Can I talk to Lorne? I want a briefing on the leads they've had."

"I'll see if he's in the city. He's been spending a lot of time on the planet. If he's here, I'll ask him to come talk to you," Carson said. "Okay?"

Letting out a breath, John nodded. "Thanks. How much time? How long has it been anyway? I lost track of time. A week? Two?"

Carson sighed again. "Ronon was gone about a week before he showed up at the Alpha site. We found Teyla a few days later."

"So about two weeks for me then?"

Carson shook his head. "Four."

John's eyes went huge. "No."

"Unfortunately, yes. We're on about four and a half weeks right now."

John sucked in a breath. God. He had been a fucking sex slave, a whore, for a month? Had begged for it, panted for it... The nights he had spent in his master's bed... He thought there had been a few, but if he was gone a month... And Rodney. Oh god Rodney... John started to hyperventilate.

"John, calm down. Panicking will not make things any better," Carson's voice was reasonable, calm, demanding. "John…bloody hell, calm down."

"Can't...Oh god...Carson...A month...I was there a month, and I, and he, and Rodney—"

"We're going to find him, John. I promise."

Nodding, John closed his eyes and tried to force himself to calm down. It didn't help that his whole god damned traitorous body was alternating between craving the damn drug and craving sex, touch, intimacy. "Get me Lorne. I want to know where they've checked, and what leads they still have to follow up on."

"I have to find him first. It's—"

"Now. Please. I'm strapped to a fucking bed because I can't even trust myself not to take out Chuck and dial back to the damn planet for a drug fix. I've spent a month begging to be fucked by someone who is not my lover, and my actual lover is still missing. If you don't give me something constructive to do now, I'm going to lose my mind. Please, Carson."

The Scot nodded, hitting his radio with his free hand, leaving one on John's arm. "Beckett to Lorne." He repeated it again a beat later before someone finally answered him. "Chuck. I was…aye, I know. I was hoping…Aye. Thank you, lad. Beckett out."

"What happened? Where is he?"

"He was meeting with Cadman's team. Should be back within the hour."

John sucked in a breath. "Distract me then? What else has been going on? What have I missed?"

"We've spent most of our time and effort looking for you and your team," Carson said.

"Personally, my response to that is thank fucking god. As the commanding officer, it seems like I should yell at Lorne a little for that." As a joke it fell flat, but he offered a weak smile anyway.

"Don't yell at him. He's had a rough spell," Carson said with a sigh. "Lost several men, too. An ambush or something. He's been working non-stop for a month now."

John closed his eyes, guilt rolling over him. While he had spent a month blissfully worry-free, his only care was when his next touches, when his next chance to grace his master's bed would be, Lorne had been in the middle of one of John's nightmares. People missing, ambushes, and who knows what else.

"The Wraith have been quiet. We think the news about Atlantis' destruction has spread through their ranks which is buying us some time."

"Small favors, eh?"

Carson snorted. "If you can call it that, aye." He was quiet for a moment. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"Other than my last month back?" He opened his eyes. "Sorry. I'm not handling this very well, am I? It's a little hard to wrap my brain around everything."

"You're doin' fine."

"No, I'm not. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about things, and I'm worried about Rodney. My mas—Ashira was... kind. From what I can remember, he actually cared about me on some level. But I was still drugged..."

"He seems to be quite an honorable man. We're on the way to becoming allies with him."

Licking his lips, John hated himself a little more for asking, but he couldn't stop himself. "Has he... asked about me? I remember, vaguely, crying as I was led away. I think I hated you just a little for making me leave him."

"He has asked, aye. He sends his regards."

A small thrill went through John, which made him close his eyes and groan. "Am I betraying Rodney? God, Carson, am I…am I cheating on him in my own head? When I was on drugs it was one thing, but now... I don't love him, not like I do Rodney, but I..." He arched slightly, "I want to feel hands, his hands, on my body again."

"That's still the drugs talking, John. Don't beat yourself up over it."

"I hope so. I don't think I can survive losing Rodney again."

Carson patted his arm. "Are you going to be okay for a bit? I'll send Lorne in as soon as he touches down."

John swallowed hard, but nodded. When Carson lifted his hand, John felt like he was lost, like the only thing grounding him was gone. But he took a deep breath and forced himself past it. "Go. I know you have things to do. I'll be okay."

"I'll be back in a bit. I promise."

Taking deep breaths, John listened to Carson leave. He found that if he turned slightly, with the little wiggle room the restraints gave him, he could rub his arm against the sheets. Sighing, he rubbed and waited for his second in command to come tell him what he had been doing while John was off playing the happy whore.

***

Lorne let out a long breath when he parked his jumper in the bay, watching as Cadman's team disembarked from their own jumper, already dragging out their gear.

Leahi was now working for Milkia and Cadman was home safe and sound. They were going to check in with Ashira once a day—he'd left him a radio. Hopefully, he was getting somewhere with Hadrious.

Hopefully.

David stood slowly, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

"You look like hell, Evan. You need to sleep sometime this century."

"I slept last night," he said, running through the last few post flight checks.

"No, you tossed and turned and you were thinking so loud they could probably hear you in the control room. Come on, let's go grab some dinner, and then we'll play chess until you fall asleep."

"Parrish," he hissed looking up, turning to glance behind him—and into the empty jumper. When did the rest of the team leave?

David rolled his eyes. "If you don't come play chess with me, Jason and Derrick were conspiring to either convince you to run with them until you dropped, or raiding the infirmary for a sleeping pill they could crush into your food. All in all, I figured a few hours with a board game you once said was 'the most boring thing ever invented' was probably the path of least resistance."

He turned back to the board, punching the buttons a little harder than necessary. "I have work to do."

"You also have to sleep." A hand rested lightly on his shoulder. It was casual enough that anyone walking by would just assume it was one teammate comforting another. "I know this is hard for you, but if you crash and burn, who will pick up the slack?"

"I have to stop in the infirmary and check on Sheppard," he said with a sigh.

David started to say something else when Evan's radio crackled. "Beckett to Lorne."

Glancing at David, Evan clicked his radio on. "I’m here, Beckett. Something wrong?"

"Oh good, Control said you were back. Evan, I need you to come down to the infirmary. John is awake and in his right mind, and he has a lot of questions. He asked me to call you down to brief him."

"He's awake?"

"Aye. For a few hours now."

He met David's eyes for a minute, starting to panic a little. He had to tell Sheppard about McKay. "Can it wait until—"

"I've already cleared it with Doctor Weir, for you to head here first. And I've already given him some of the news. He just needs you to fill in the details."

"I'll be there in a few minutes. Lorne out."

"Evan?" David looked concerned.

"Sheppard's awake, asking questions, wanting details. He's going to ask about McKay and I get to tell him, 'I’m sorry, but we seemed to have misplaced your geek, but I’m still looking for him'. I'm dead."

David's hand was still resting on his shoulder. His thumb began to make small motions against Evan's neck. "It will be fine. I'll grab dinner and set up the chessboard. Come down to my quarters when you're done."

"Make sure you say something nice at my memorial service."

"He won't kill you. Go. It'll be fine."

"Maybe he'll be asleep when I get there," Lorne said, rising from the pilot's seat.

David laughed, squeezing his shoulder once before letting his hand drop. "My quarters when you're done. Dinner and a boring game of chess, followed by a good night of sleep, will be waiting for you."

Lorne turned once he hit the bay floor, his eyebrows drawn together as he watched Parrish leave. "Hey! Since when are you the boss?"

"I'm always the boss. It just took you longer to figure it out." He could hear the botanist's laughter as he disappeared around the corner.

Grumbling to himself and shaking his head, Lorne headed down to the infirmary only stopping long enough to put his gear away. Beckett was waiting for him as soon as he stepped in the medical complex.

"Ah, there you are. Good, he's restless. I've already told him Rodney is still missing, but he needs details, and to hear about what else is going on around Atlantis."

Lorne nodded. "How's he doing otherwise?"

Carson sighed. "Good and bad. He's struggling to comprehend how much time passed, and what he did while he was gone. The worst of the withdrawal is over, but he's still got strong cravings, and the effects of the drugs—the need they induced—is still there to a certain degree."

"He actually managed to sleep through the worst?"

"No, I kept him sedated through the worst. There's a difference."

Lorne shrugged. It was all the same to him. "So, I should probably talk with him."

"Aye, he's been asking for you. I think he just needs to feel useful, something to take his mind off things. He requested that I not remove the restraints yet—and you know how much he hates them. He does'na trust himself yet, and wants to be distracted."

"Okay. He's back…"

Carson chuckled. "Aye, he is. And he's going to be fine. But here's a tip: touch him. I know he usually avoids the contact, but put a hand on his leg or arm while you talk to him. It seems to ground him a bit."

"Okay." Lorne nodded, headed to the small private rooms in the back. He knocked on the door before entering. Sheppard was dressed in scrubs and in four-point restraints. He wasn't tugging at them, but he was rubbing his arm against the sheet. "Sir?"

For a moment, his expression was confused. Then he closed his eyes for a brief moment, opening them again with a slight smile. "Lorne. I hear I owe you some thanks."

"Not sure why, sir," he said, walking in, standing a few feet from the bed.

"You found me. Brought me home." Sheppard shifted again, didn't even seem to be aware of how he was restlessly rubbing.

"Wasn't easy, sir. Glad we did."

Sheppard nodded. "Tell me what else has been going on. I need to know what I've missed, and what leads you have on McKay."

"Most of it can wait until you're back on your feet, sir. No need to worry you."

"Lorne…Evan, I'm desperately craving a drug that makes me a fucking sex kitten whore. I still have a teammate missing, and if someone doesn't fucking touch me soon, I'm going to go out of my fucking mind. Please, please, distract me. Give me something else to think about."

Oh. Damn. Lorne stepped closer. "You want me to…"

John was almost vibrating, and his ears were bright red. "God, please."

Evan moved the rest of the way to the bed, settling down in the chair. He lifted his hand hesitating a few seconds before finally patting Sheppard's arm. "Ah…like this?"

It was almost instantaneous, the way the tension bled out of him. He shifted slightly so Evan's hand was more firmly against his arm, although he continued to blush. "Carson assures me this...this need... will pass. But for now... Brief me. What's been going on here? How close are you to finding Rodney?"

"I don't know."

"You have a lead to follow?" John twitched his arm slightly so Evan's fingers moved against it.

Evan sighed, letting his hand move along Sheppard's arm, trying to think of it as David's. He liked petting his geek. "We've spoken with most of the large slave buyers on the planet and that's how we finally found you. From what we can piece together, there were a number of off-world buyers this time around. We think it might be one of them."

John relaxed completely. "Off-world? Fuck. What about the slaver who sold us? His name...was Hadrious, wasn't it? I'm guessing Ronon and Teyla were able to give you a lot more intel than I can. I remember a lot, vividly, but none of it is connected and most of it was in my mas—in Ashira's court, so I don't know how useful it is."

"Yes, it was. And he's been…less than forthcoming. Ashira is…assisting us on that front."

He saw the surprise on Sheppard's face at that. "Ashria is? Carson mentioned that he's on his way to becoming an ally. He's helping us find McKay?"

"Yes. It seems Hadrious broke several…laws when he grabbed and sold your team. Ashira is within his rights to ask for…damages."

"Damages?"

"He didn't go into too much detail about it…"

"Probably a good idea. If you knew, you'd have to tell Elizabeth, and she objects to that sort of thing. How is..." Sheppard licked his lips. "How is Ashira? I..."

Lorne glanced away when Sheppard mentioned Weir. He knew that briefing was going to come soon enough. "Ah…fine. He was trying to get some information for us from Hadrious."

He didn't realize he had stopped moving his hand, or that his looking away could be taken as having a problem with Sheppard until the Colonel spoke up, his voice strained. "Okay Major, let's blame this on the fact that I'm still coming down off some powerful drugs. Please, don't stop moving you fingers. Whether I like it or not, I'm really fucking needy right now, and it doesn't matter how much I hate it, I can't seem to stop. And I can't... I need to... I need to know whatever you know about Rodney, even if it's nothing, and I need to know if Ashira... if he..."

"Oh…sorry, sir. I…" Lorne shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but started petting Sheppard's arm again. "We don’t know much. We're trying every possible avenue."

"I know you are, Lorne. And given how bad you look, I can't imagine it's been easy." He seemed to deflate. "You found me, right?"

"Yes. Parrish actually spotted you."

"It was bad, wasn't it?"

Lorne shrugged. "Depends on how you look at it."

"How did he treat me? My memories are so disjointed..."

"Very well as far as I could tell. Doctor Beckett actually saw you in your rooms. He could probably tell you more, sir."

Sheppard nodded. "I'll ask him." He seemed to stare off into space for a moment. "What about Ronon and Teyla? Beckett didn't have many details on their situations, beyond telling me what they were bought for and that they're home now."

"What about them?"

"What do we know about what happened to them? How were they treated? How did Cadman end up subbing for Teyla as a bouncer at a brothel?"

"Ronon had the hardest time. They wanted him for his physical strength. Spent some time in solitary when he wouldn't listen. Ended up escaping and killing a few of the guards."

"Good. Probably a good thing Ashira has Hadrious and not us. If Ronon had a chance at him, he wouldn't survive long enough to give us any information."

"I'm…not so sure about that."

Sheppard's eyebrow went up. "Are you going to make me drag every scrap of information out of you? Why? What else happened?"

Lorne sighed. He might as well just get it all out. "Ronon already had at him. He helped kidnap Hadrious for Ashira."

John's eyes went wide, reminding Lorne of how he had looked when they first brought him home. "He... Let me get this straight. Ronon went and kidnapped Hadrious, and then you gave him to Ashira to get the information?"

Evan nodded. "More or less."

Sheppard started to shake, and it took Evan half a second to realize he was laughing. "God, that's brilliant. You haven't told Elizabeth yet, have you?"

"No plans to."

"Good man."

"Ashira needed some logistical assistance, so we…assisted."

Sheppard grinned. "And you have plausible deniability. Excellent." He hesitated. "Assuming I'm allowed out of the restraints, I'd like to go with you when you get the intel and go to rescue McKay."

"We're waiting on Ashira right now. He's trying to get the information from Hadrious for us. He has a radio and we check in every morning."

"Good. When I'm safe to be allowed out of the restraints, I'll start sitting in on them." He shot a wry grin at Evan. "Don't make that face at me, soldier. I'm well aware that I won't be on active duty in the immediate future, and until such time, you're still in charge. But I'll be damned if I'm going to sit still and twiddle my thumbs."

"We're doing everything we can, sir."

"I know. And from the sound of it, you're doing a good job. Carson mentioned an ambush?"

Lorne sighed. "We're not even sure what happened. We killed four or five. They got three of ours. It's all in the report."

"I'm sure you did what you could. What about the rest of the city? I can't do anything right now, but I can at least be a sounding board. You look like shit, Lorne. Get it out, and then go get some rest."

Evan chuckled. "Isn't that my line? We need you back on your feet, sir. You need to rest and get better."

"Doing my best. Come on, Evan. I know how hard command is—and I've usually got you to fall back on. At least let me help you work some of whatever is bothering you out in your head so you can stop staying up all night with your mind spinning like a hamster wheel—and don't deny it. I know, because I do the same thing when it gets stressful."

"We should have found you sooner. We wasted too much time playing nice."

"You did what you could. If you had gone in shooting, would the leads you got that led to me have talked, or clammed up?"

"I don't know. We wasted so much time. And you have no idea how many fights Cadman had to break up. She shouldn't have been in that position in the first place, but I assigned her." Lorne sighed, shaking his head, fingers still on the move. "I know there was nothing I could have done differently, but it doesn't make it any easier. And now that we have to pull back the military support from the planet and reassign teams—"

"I'm guessing that came from Elizabeth. If it's been a month, it doesn't surprise me that she wants to redistribute the resources a bit more. But she hasn't told you to withdraw everyone, has she? And McKay is the only person left, and you can't do anything until Ashira breaks the slaver. So more teams on the planet doesn't really do anything at this point. You can always pull them once you have a solid lead on Rodney for the rescue mission if you need them." It was a bit surprising to hear Sheppard talking tactics while strapped to a bed.

"Beckett, Zelenka, and Weir, yes."

"They aren't wrong, and you aren't going to beat yourself up over it. If Zelenka was in on it, I'm guessing they want you to focus on assigning some of those teams to science missions. What teams are available, and give me the bare bones of the missions Zelenka wants."

"I'd have to get the files. Zelenka likes his lists."

"God, he's worse than Rodney sometimes. Stop by tomorrow with it, if you want some help. I'll help you match up the teams to the missions, and leave yourself enough free resources to deal with anything that comes up."

Lorne raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're up for it?"

Sheppard nodded, shooting him another wry grin. "Actually, I'd consider it a favor. Not only will it let me start to get up back to speed, it will...give me a distraction. When I'm working, I'm not thinking about the itchy feeling under my skin, or this god damned need to be touched constantly."

"Maybe I should get you a cat."

"If you can smuggle a cat through the gate, I will proclaim you the black market god, and even stop dumping my own paperwork on you. McKay loves cats."

Lorne chuckled. "I just figured the cat could use you as a scratching post or something."

"There is a distinct difference between being petted and being scratched, thank you." Sheppard blushed again, but if anything shifted his arm so Evan wouldn't stop.

"Well, there would be rubbing, no?"

"You want me to walk around trying to lure one of the most independent creatures in nature into rubbing against me?" Sheppard's chest was shaking with the effort of holding in a laugh.

Evan shrugged, offering a smile. "It's worth a try."

John just shook his head. "Just bring me something useful to do, until this thing works through my system, and I'll be fine." He blushed again.

"I'll see what I can do."

When Sheppard answered, it was so quiet, Evan had to strain to hear it. "Thank you."

"You'll get past this, sir. You will."

"I hope so, Evan. I really do."

"You will." He'd better. This job was going to kill him if Sheppard didn't.

Sheppard sighed. "As long as I don't lose my mind in the meantime. You're my second, Lorne. I'm counting out you to bring me enough work to keep me busy. And, in the process I can take a little off your plate as well."

"Thanks, sir. But I need to get going. Need to get some food and head to bed. Another early start in the morning. Want me to get Beckett when I’m leaving?"

Nodding, John quirked up the corner of his mouth. "Yes. Thanks. Go to bed, and I'll see you tomorrow I'm sure."

"I'm sure, sir. Good night." He patted Sheppard's arm as he rose, moving quietly through the infirmary. He found Beckett in his office. "Doc? I'm headed out."

Carson looked up. "How did it go?"

Lorne shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. "Better than I thought."

"Good. And how are you doing, lad?"

"As good as can be expected. I'm going to grab some dinner and get some sleep."

"Good. I was going to tell you to do both, but you've beat me to it. Sleep well, Evan."

"You too, doc." He offered a half-hearted wave as he headed down to Parrish's quarters. He hoped there was food.

***

Rodney wasn't sure how he managed it, but he got the prototype weapon completed within the timeframe Kolya specified.

He was shaking with exhaustion by the time it was done and after getting fed dinner, he'd been put to bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

For the first time in weeks, he was left alone for the next day—the day of the testing. He was fed breakfast and lunch at regular intervals, and given a few bathroom breaks during the course of the day, but otherwise no one talked to him or even looked at him. He was a non-entity, invisible. Without Kolya's orders to make sure he was cared for, they'd probably just leave him in the cell, forgotten, alone.

He didn't want to die alone.

When he heard the door open again, Rodney was huddled in the corner of his bed, pressed up against the wall, the blanket pulled tightly around him, eyes open and yet staring at nothing.

A warm hand touched his knee. "Rodney? I came to tell you how the testing went."

It took him a minute to focus on the voice. It was kind, familiar. Kolya.

The commander continued when he was certain Rodney was listening, looking at him.

"It went exceptionally well. Your design worked flawlessly. You did excellent work, and I believe that deserves a reward before you begin to go over the data my scientists collected and see what, if any, improvements must be made before we begin full production. Since you have done so well, I will let you have some input. Tell me, Rodney, what would you like as a reward?" Kolya was touching him, stroking his leg soothingly as he talked.

Rodney felt the warmth of Kolya's hand and the warmth of his praise, but there was only one thing he wanted. "Send Sheppard home and I'll do whatever you want."

The smile he received in return was kind, but firm. "That is the one thing I cannot grant you."

"I'll give you everything…willingly. Just please, let him go."

Kolya's hand moved up, cupping his neck. "I cannot risk Sheppard being free, Rodney. He is a threat. He could hurt me. Would you want that?"

Rodney shook his head. No. If Kolya was hurt then there would be no one to protect him.

"However," he continued, "if you choose, I can make his stay a bit more...comfortable. If you would like that as your reward."

Rodney felt his eyes close, his body trembling slightly as he leaned into the touch, the warmth of his hand. "Yes, please."

"Consider it done." Kolya pulled him in, kissing him softly. "Now, because I am a generous man, I will grant you something for yourself as well. What would make your stay with us more hospitable, Rodney?"

He shook his head. He didn't matter. Only Sheppard. "Don't…don't know. Just want Sheppard safe."

"Then I will choose for you. How would you like a full bath, a chance to be completely clean? Followed by a full meal. In the meantime, I will have this room cleaned and freshened up for you."

Rodney nodded.

"Excellent. Come then. You will have hot water, soap, and as long as you wish to partake of both."

Opening his eyes wide, he looked up at Kolya, surprised by the kindness, but desperate to have it as well. "Really?"

Kolya smiled, standing and holding out a hand to Rodney. "Yes. Good work is well-rewarded. And you did an excellent job."

Uncurling himself from the blanket, Rodney took the hand that was offered, letting Kolya lead him down the hall, to a different bathroom, a private one. He looked around with wide open eyes at the towels and the smell of soap and clean. Oh god…to be clean again…

He turned to Kolya. "Can I shave again, too?"

Kolya's expression was indulgent as he nodded to the supplies, sitting ready on a counter. "Everything you need is here. Should you require anything else, just ask and it will be yours if it is in my power to provide it."

Rodney glanced around again, fingers playing with the edge of his cuffs. "Can…" he started almost afraid to ask.

"Yes?"

"Can these come off…at least for a little while?"

Kolya shook his head. "I'm afraid not. They are part of you now, and won't be removed."

Rodney nodded. He wrapped his arms around his torso as he stood in the middle of the bathroom, unsure what to do, not wanting to make Kolya angry. He was doing this for John. For John. Everything for John.

Kolya cupped his face and kissed him again. "Enjoy your reward. You will feel better once you are clean, and then I will bring you down to your meal."

He nodded as Kolya turned and left, his last lingering kiss and touch remaining with Rodney for minutes after. It still felt wrong, strange, and awkward. He couldn't help his body's reactions, but his responses pleased Kolya. And if Kolya was pleased with him, John was safe. Then it was okay.

He ran through his reasoning several times before finally nodding, content with his conclusion. He finally started to move, setting the taps, adjusting the water temperature. Once there were several inches of water in the tub, he stepped in, moaning at the warmth, settling down inside as he watched the water level rise steadily. He adjusted the temperature a few times until it was perfect.

Turning off the water, he finally leaned back with a sigh, his eyes closing as his body warmed and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

He soaked in the tub until the water got cold and then he let it drain out, washing the dirt and stink away with the water. He rinsed off the last of the suds before quickly cleaning out the tub, only to fill it once again.

He heard the click of the door sometime later, the water cooling for the second time. Opening his eye, he saw Kolya staring down at him with a smile.

"I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You've been in here for quite some time. Enjoying yourself?"

Rodney nodded, offering a small smile.

Kolya sat on the edge of the tub, his hand rubbing against Rodney's stubble. "Excellent. Do you need anything else?"

Rodney thought for a moment, letting the touch soothe him, his eyes drift closed as he sighed, finally warm and comfortable. "No."

Lips brushed against his, tongue licking inside briefly before Kolya was standing again. "I will return for you again later. Take your time."

Rodney found himself sitting up straighter, instinctively following Kolya's departure, a small moan in his throat. "Okay," he finally said.

Kolya paused, looking back with an eyebrow raised. "Did you wish me to stay?"

"I…" Rodney was confused. He shouldn't want this, but there was something…Kolya protected him. But so did Sheppard. But Sheppard wasn't here. He was alone. No, not alone. Commander Kolya protected him. "I don't know," he finally said.

Kolya returned to his perch beside the tub. "Lie back and relax then. I will stay." His dragged his hand through Rodney's damp hair, caressing again.

"Thank you." He hummed lightly as he leaned back, glad he didn't have to make the decision, not wanting to screw up. He tilted his head to give Kolya better access. The part of him that was screaming at how bad and wrong and bad this had finally been reduced to a dying whisper in the wind. If this was what Kolya wanted, Rodney would give it to him because it kept John safe.

Kolya stayed until the water started to get cool again, his fingers never leaving Rodney's body, never stilling.

When a shiver hit, Rodney finally opened his eyes, knowing it was time. He was turning into one big prune, but he was finally clean. He didn't want to get cold now.

"Ready to get out and shave?"

Rodney nodded and Kolya rose, pulling the plug on the tub and tugging Rodney upright, wrapping him with towels and drying him. He sat him on a stool, putting both hands on Rodney's face and looking him in the eyes.

"Would you like me to shave you again, Rodney?"

"I…I can do it." But he made no move to reach for the supplies.

"I know you can do it. But would you prefer that I did?" Kolya was gently stroking his jaw line again with a thumb.

Kolya was so close Rodney could smell the toothpaste he used. "I…if you want to."

"This is your reward, Rodney. I want to make you feel comfortable." He continued to rub, moving closer and closer to Rodney's lips again.

"I'm comfortable," he said quietly, tasting Kolya's breath on his tongue.

"Very good." Kolya closed the remaining distance between them, kissing Rodney again, possessive, claiming him. When he pulled back, Rodney was panting softly. "Let's get you shaved then, shall we?" He began to gather the materials.

"Please," Rodney whispered, watching Kolya through half-closed eyes. The shaving cream was warm, Kolya's touches firm as he applied it. With the tap running warm water, he cleaned off the straight razor before making the first stroke carefully, easily. After every pass, he cleaned the blade under the running water. Kolya tilted Rodney's head to make sure he got the best angle, and Rodney held steady, letting him work, feeling his arousal and desire slowly grow.

When he was finally done, Kolya wet a washcloth and wiped the remaining shaving cream from Rodney's face, patting it dry with a towel.

"Better?"

Rodney nodded, offering a smile.

"Good. Very good." Kolya began to touch him again, running his hands all over Rodney's body.

Rodney arched into the touches, angling his head upward, a whispered "please" on his lips.

"Please what, Rodney?"

He leaned forward, gazing up at the other man with wide, pleading eyes, panting quietly.

"What do you want, Rodney? Tell me."

"I need more…please," he whispered, trembling as Kolya's hands continued to move on his body, pushing away the towel so he could get more access. It was wrong to want this, but he needed it, wanted it.

"More what, Rodney?" He began to play with the nipple rings, sending jolts of pleasure through Rodney's body.

Moaning, Rodney shoved off the rest of the towels, giving Kolya more access to his skin, his body. The caresses, the touches felt so good.

Nudging Rodney's knees wide apart, Kolya stepped between them, continuing to play with Rodney's body. "What do you want?"

Rodney shook his head, confusion and desire mingling as one. He wanted to feel full, complete, loved. He needed more touch, to feel more, to feel himself fucked and loved like he'd been before.

"Tell me. Say the words."

Between panting moans, Rodney opened his eyes, knowing his expression was bare. "I…I want more…feel more…to be touched…fucked."

A look of triumph skittered across Kolya's face before he claimed Rodney's mouth in a hard kiss again. He pulled Rodney up, hands roaming back to cup his ass, teasing along the crack.

Rodney moaned into his mouth, arms wrapped around Kolya's back as he hung on, trembling and shuddering under his touches. Yes. He wanted this, needed this, and it make Kolya happy to have him like this. He'd seen his smile. He wanted Rodney like this.

Continuing to tease, one hand moved around to cup the cage still imprisoning Rodney's dick. "This isn't coming off today, Rodney. If you are very good again, I will allow you to come next time. For you, you will give yourself to my pleasure."

Rodney whimpered, but nodded. He understood. He had to earn it. He would. He remembered that much from Ivan.

"Very good." Kolya praised him again before turning him, pushing him almost gently against the wall. A finger coated with something slick, pushed inside him. It took Kolya a while to find his prostate, but once he did he began to massage it as he stretched Rodney open.

Oh. It felt so good, driving any question or doubt from his mind.

As he grew more and more aroused and desperate, his whimpers grew louder. The cage holding his cock in place, refused to let it grow, his non-erection getting painful.

A second finger was slipped in, followed by a third. When the fingers finally disappeared, he felt the blunt head of a cock pressing against him, demanding entrance.

He groaned, but pushed back. "Yes, please…" he whispered, wanting it, needing it.

Biting down on Rodney's neck as he pushed in, Kolya filled him, stretched him, took him.

And Rodney begged for it.

Kolya began to move, to fuck him in earnest. It didn't take long before he felt the rush of heat, heard the grunts that told him the other man was coming.

Moaning and whimpering, his ass and cock sore, Rodney reached back, holding onto Kolya's sides while the other man panted, coming down.

Kolya petted him, pulling Rodney back against his own body—the commander was still fully dressed, had only opened his pants enough to pull himself out. He stroked Rodney's sides and stomach softly until the pain from his denied erection began to subside. All the while, he whispered soft praise.

Here, in this moment nothing else mattered.

And for the first time in weeks, Rodney felt safe.

***

Teyla sighed, rolling over again in her bed, her body as restless as her mind.

So much had happened over the past weeks and while she was overjoyed upon finding John, even his rescue was tinted with sadness at his condition, his addiction.

She spent as much time with him as she could, calming and soothing him when it became too much.

But every night she still saw Rodney's wide and terrified eyes, pleading with her to help him, save him.

But she had been unable.

She knew the reasons and the circumstances and why it had not been possible to aid him, but it tore at her nonetheless.

Rising, she pulled on her workout clothes, hoping a walk would ease her mind. She had taken one every night since she returned and it had yet to help. A troubled peace is what she usually found.

She started out as she normally did, pausing on several balcony overlooks, watching the play of moonlight on the spires of Atlantis before her path took her inward. She moved silently through the science labs, Doctor Zelenka flashing her a tired smile as he shut down his computer before heading to his quarters.

It had become a familiar sight these nights.

She kept moving, passing through the botany labs, smelling the scent of growth and birth before continuing into the infirmary with its antiseptic scent, pausing at the door to Sheppard's private room.

A small light shone in the corner, illuminating his face as he slumbered, his movements finally stilled in sleep.

As she was getting ready to turn away, he moaned softly, tugging on the restraints. When he slept without the aid of drugs, she knew he suffered from dreams he refused to talk about later.

Approaching silently, she lightly brushed away the hair on his forehead with one hand, her other settling on his arm. "Be still. You are safe," she whispered.

He started, his eyes opening suddenly. She knew he didn't really see her right away, his expression far more open than he was normally. Then he blinked, and drew in a shaky breath. "Teyla?"

She offered a warm smile. "I am here. You are safe. Go back to sleep. You need to regain your strength."

He shifted, and she knew he didn't entirely realize that he was pushing his body more firmly against her hands. He was always embarrassed when he realized what he was doing, but she didn't mind the contact. "Yeah. I know. Tomorrow Beckett is taking these damn restraints off. I'm really looking forward to being able to move freely again."

"You are feeling better?" she asked, tugging the guest chair closer as she stroked the inside of his arm.

"Yes and no. I'm still craving pria, and touch, but I don't think I want it bad enough to try to steal a jumper and go through the gate, so that's progress, right?"

"Yes, I believe so," she said, offering another smile. "You are progressing very well."

"I guess. I'm just ready to be able to see something other than these four walls. I'm starting to go stir crazy."

"And you shall." She let the silence of the infirmary settle over them, feeling John's body relax slightly under her touch. "Your dreams disturbed your slumber?"

He had 'zoned out' slightly, and had been making a soft noise she had head Doctor Beckett call a purr. Her question snapped him back into focus, color staining his cheeks. "Ah, nothing. Why, did I say anything out loud?"

"John."

"Hmmm?"

"John." She added firmness to her voice as she narrowed her eyes.

He swallowed, turning his head away.

"I can leave if you would rather be alone with your thoughts."

She only knew he shuddered from the faint tremors she could feel in his arm. "No, stay. Please. I just... I dream about... there. Ashira, what I... what I did there, what I wanted. And Rodney is... he's there, watching, and I can see how much it hurts him, and he turns away and refuses to talk to me again..."

"Do you actually believe he would do such a thing to you?"

He refused to look at her, his voice turning flat. "I spent a month not only gracing someone else's bed, but begging for the privilege."

"And the drug had nothing to do with it. Of course, I see now," she said, pulling her hand back, arms crossed over her chest.

He whimpered softly, twitching when her hand disappeared, but didn't turn his head. "I'm not saying that. I know... But I don't know how he'll see it. He left me when he thought I might have had sex with Chaya. This time I did have sex, a lot of it..."

"Why do you not wait to find out?"

He did finally turn his head. "Believe it or not, I am trying. But you asked what I was dreaming about. I can't exactly control those."

"No, you cannot."

He sighed. "I miss him, Teyla. I should be out there looking for him, but instead I'm here... And there's no telling what he's going through, what's being done to him. It's killing me."

She placed her hand on his arm, trying to give him the more supportive and encouraging expression she could muster. "We all miss him and worry about him."

His muscles relaxed slightly. "I know. And I know you're going out of your mind as much as I am. Don't think I don't know that you've come by here every night almost, pacing Atlantis. We'll find him."

She raised an eyebrow. He was usually sleeping, never aware of her presence.

He had the grace to blush. "I hear you either coming or going most nights. I figured if you wanted the company, you would have come inside instead of staying in the doorway, so I didn't call out."

"I did not wish to wake you."

"You didn't. I'm...I haven't been sleeping very heavily, or for very long. The dreams wake me up, or I manage to wake myself up sometimes as they get started." He shrugged as much as he was able in the restraints.

"Have they been getting better?"

"The dreams? No, not really. My subconscious just needs to work through a few things. My guess is that they won't really go away until we get Rodney back and I see that he's okay. What about you? Want to talk about what drives you out of your room every night?"

She shrugged, turning her face away. "Much the same I imagine. I saw him just after I was sold, had the chance to speak with him—if just for a few moments."

He sucked in a breath. "How was he? When was it? After I was....was sold?"

She shook her head, already falling into memory. "Before. Just before. He was scared. Hungry. Worried about you. Worried about what would happen to him. He begged my new owner to buy him as well."

John made a soft, broken noise. "God... Rodney..."

"And I could not help him."

"Neither could I, Teyla. He had to watch while I..." He sighed softly. "There was nothing any of us could do. It was a shitty situation. You made an attempt at least, that's more than either I or Ronon were able to manage."

She shook her head as she rose to her feet. "It was still not enough. Good night, John. We shall speak again in the morning."

"Teyla! No, wait, damnit I can't get up to follow you!" She heard him jerk on the restraints.

She paused several feet away, turning back to face him. "It is late, John."

"Are you really going to bed, or are you going to go beat yourself up somewhere in private where you don't have to listen to another point of view? You've given me a lot of very good advice about not doing that, about talking it out. Don't you think you should follow it yourself? Or when you fed it to me, was it all a bunch of bullshit?"

"This time I do not believe it will settle until Doctor McKay is back home," she said finally with a sigh. "He fills my dreams and begs me to find him and each time I fail."

"I know. God, I know. But if I can't beat myself up over it when I'm awake, then neither can you. We'll get him back, and we'll deal with whatever fall out there is then. We can both drive ourselves crazy playing the 'what if' game, but it doesn't change anything."

"No, it does not," she said.

"So come keep me company. Neither of us is going to sleep much anyway, we might as well do it together. Come catch me up on everything I missed. Lorne's been briefing me on the base, but I want to hear about you and Ronon."

Tilting her head, she looked at John for a long moment before settling in next to him on the guest chair once again, her hand resting on his arm. And they talked, keeping each other's demons at bay, at least for a single night.

***

John flexed his arms, moving them slowly in circles while Carson unhooked his feet. God, it felt good to be able to move freely. "Am I going to have any trouble standing up after being horizontal for a week?" He mentally winced at the way the phrase came out.

Carson glanced up, eyebrow rising slightly. "You may be a tad bit weak, but we can work through it."

"Am I allowed to leave the infirmary?"

"Let's take one step at a time," he said, releasing the final strap. "If you're okay by the end of the day I'll consider releasing you to your quarters."

He was both anxious to actually have his own space again, remember who he was, what he was, but at the same time... he had to admit to himself that he was worried. About what he would do once he had no one to distract him from the craving that still lurked just behind his conscious thoughts. To cover, he swung his legs around, carefully slipping off the bed. "It'll be nice to be able to use the bathroom on my own again."

"Aye," Carson chuckled as he watched John carefully. "I can imagine. Feeling okay?"

"Peachy." John made sure he could hold his own weight, pleased when his legs didn't give out from under him. He had been...athletic enough during his little stint as a sex toy that he hadn't lost too much muscle tone. A week in bed hadn't done too much harm.

"So…you're juicy and fuzzy?"

"Har de har har." John took a few steps, stretching his muscles a bit more.

"Was that a yes?"

"Well, the fuzzy part maybe." He looked up, and had to suck in a breath, Carson's posture and mock-stern gaze making him want to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He gripped the back of a chair so hard his knuckles turned white trying to fight it off.

"John?" Carson asked stepping forward, his expression turning to worry.

He clenched his teeth, fighting instincts screaming at him that if he didn't show proper respect he would be punished. "Flashback. Sort of. I really, really want to drop to my knees for you right now, and I'm really, really trying to fight it."

"What would you like me to do to help?"

"I don't know." He gave in and sank to his knees, graceful, his body finding the right position. "I really fucking hate myself right now."

"Well…I think I need to work in the labs a bit more on that drug cocktail," Carson said, blushing fiercely.

"This isn't the drugs. It's... I don't know what it is." He sighed, as the need passed and let himself slump into the floor. "Is this going to happen often? Because isn't Caldwell going to be here soon? He's already going to be contemplating court marshal for the month I spent gracing another man's bed. This would just give him more ammo."

"You were under the influence of alien drugs. No such thing will happen. And in answer to your first question, yes, I think it is an ingrained response from the drugs combined with your…training. As your need to rely on the drugs decreases, so should the urges to kneel—among other things."

"So the urge to beg you to fuck me will fade, too? Not that I don't like you and all, but I don't really think that's appropriate. And, um, it isn't limited to just you. God, I need Rodney here..."

This time Carson blushed even further, the red traveling down his neck. "Aye. That'll go as well. And aye, we need Rodney here more than you know."

John shifted so he was sitting on his ass, pulling his legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "No, I'm pretty sure I know."

"So, I'm thinking it might be a good idea to have you stay in the infirmary for a while," Carson said after a minute or two of silence. "I can get a laptop brought in with some DVDs. Give you some more freedom…"

"No. Please... let me go somewhere where there isn't anyone staring at me. I'll stay mostly in my room, you can come check on me anytime you want." John stared up, eyes wide.

"No one is staring at you here, John. And I'll make my final decision this evening."

He sighed, but nodded, his head dropping into a position of obedience even before he made the conscious thought.

"Oh John…" Carson's words were quiet, hushed.

Realizing what he had done, John dropped his head onto his legs. "It's not just going to go away, is it? Even when the drug is completely gone, I'm still going to... it's not just going to go back to the way it was by itself, is it?" His whispered it into his scrubs.

"You will, John. I promise you."

"I've been fucking conditioned, Carson. Yes, the drugs made it a whole hell of a lot easier for them, but it doesn't change the fact that it happened. Sex aside, I'm not going to be able to help dropping into a fucking slave position every time someone so much as raises their voice at me."

"We'll work through it, John. I promise."

And how fucked up was it, that what he really wanted, craved, right now was for Carson to wrap his arms around him and tell John over and over that it would be okay, that he was going to be fine. Sighing, he forced himself to raise his head. "So, I get to feed myself lunch, right?"

"Of course. Even get to pick what you want. I have the menu from the kitchen," Carson said, handing over a PDA he pulled from his lab coat pocket.

Skimming the list, John smiled to see one of the desserts listed as 'honeycakes'. Apparently his love of the stuff was becoming legendary. After he ordered, he pulled himself off the floor, enjoying the freedom to take care of business, even shower, on his own. When he came out again, lunch was waiting. "Smells great! I don't think I realized I was hungry until just now."

"Good," Carson said, puttering around with something as John got himself settled in a chair next to the small table. "I hope you enjoy it and if you want anything else, just give me a yell. I'm not too far away."

"Yes, sir."

"Please don't leave the infirmary, but feel free to wander. I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Yes, sir." John watched Carson leave, and poked at his food. The obedient little Jita. Doing exactly what he was told. He sighed.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. By the end, he was pacing the infirmary aimlessly, wondering if it was worth the effort to try and leave. Carson had his own life, so it was Suzanne, the duty nurse, who was on ‘guard’, making sure he didn’t go through the final set of doors. A month ago John would have been positive he could charm his way around her. Now, he was just unsure enough about it that he was pacing instead of trying it. But hey, at least this was better than lying in bed hoping someone would come along and touch him.

He was on his third or fourth loop, not really paying attention, when a hand on his arm stopped him and made his body tingle with the unexpectedness of it. He was leaning into it before he could stop himself, then flushed and straightened—but not far enough for the hand to drop away. Looking up, he was surprised to see Lorne. “Major?”

"Sorry, sir. Wanted to stop in and see you, caught you doing laps."

"Ah, yeah. I'm not allowed to leave the infirmary yet, but this is better than sitting in bed all day. What can I do for you?"

"Have a few minutes to chat?"

"Sure." John spotted a few chairs in a semi-private area. He nodded his head at it. "Will that work for you?"

"Maybe a little more private?"

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded, heading back towards his room. About three steps in he realized he was swishing his hips, cursed to himself, and evened out his gate, hoping Lorne hadn't noticed his CO had just been unintentionally giving him the 'come hither' walk. He slid into a chair as soon as the door was shut. "What can I do for you?"

Lorne hesitated for a few seconds, before reaching in his pocket. "I wanted to make sure I gave this back to you," he said, holding out his closed hand to John.

Confused, John held out his hand. He didn't remember losing anything.

Warm metal dropped into his hand. "I knew you'd want this."

Looking down, John stopped breathing. His tags. With his ring still attached. Oh God, he thought he had lost these...

"You owe me a couple of rue, but I'll take a rain check on it."

John just stared at the metal in his hand. A shaking hand—he distantly realized it was his other one—reached out to run a single finger along the edges of the tags, around the band that hung in front of them. His voice felt raw. "How?"

"We found them in a shop in the village market. Founds McKay's tablet, the LSD, your knife…a few things. Bought whatever we found. Beckett actually spotted it in a store front."

Closing both his fist and his eyes, John knew he was close to losing control. "Thank you. I don't... I thought I had lost them..."

Lorne's voice was quiet, knowing. "This is why I thought privacy might be a good option. I'll go so you can be alone."

"Thank you. I don't think I can ever repay you for finding them."

"Just…" Lorne paused, a few steps away. "If something like this it ever happens to me…"

Opening his eyes, John's expression was fierce. "They'll have to show me the bodies before I stop looking."

Lorne nodded. "We're still looking. I'm not going to give up."

"He's out there." Opening his fist, he touched the ring again. "He has to be."

"Why doesn't he wear his?" Lorne's voice was quiet.

John was beyond caring about DADT at this point. Lorne knew anyway. "He wouldn't in the labs, jewelry like that could get in the way, get caught in things. And it would be a little silly to only wear it in the field."

"But the…necklace…"

Looking up, John quirked his lips. "Collar. And it's close enough to his skin that it doesn't cause problems. He probably shouldn't have it on either, but we're both more comfortable when he does."

"Yeah…that's what Ronon said."

John gave a half-hearted shrug. "It works well for both of us."

"I'm glad, sir," Lorne said with a smile.

John remembered what he had noticed about Lorne and his own geek. Figuring he might as well go for broke, he decided to ask. "How are things with Parrish?"

Lorne's blush was answer enough. "Things?"

John chuckled. "It's probably a good thing most people don't realize how sexy smart is, Evan. Otherwise, we'd be fighting them off with sticks. Or guns. I'm fond of the 'fondle my P90 and glare' approach personally."

"And it seems to work for you…sir." The tips of Lorne's ears were bright red.

"Stop worrying about it. One, I'm not stupid enough to bust someone for doing the same thing I am, and two, if I cared at all I wouldn't be doing it myself. If that makes sense. Heck, I'd rather trade stories with you than spend all my time worrying about it." John let his smile turn genuine. He really did like his XO, they had a lot in common. More than he originally would have guessed actually. He still had high hopes that Evan would loosen up enough to be his friend when they were off-duty.

Lorne was quiet for a minute before he turned to John, exasperation on his face. "How do they do it? How do they just look at you and then the next minute you're just following blindly along?"

For the first time since had gotten back, John laughed. Really laughed. "Damned if I know. Rodney and I work a little differently than most, but... You don't think I spend hours in the labs for my health, do you?"

"Some days, I don't know. After doing your job for the past month…I think you hide there."

"Well, that, too. When Beckett springs me, remind me to show you the other offices. They're great for hiding when you start feeling like a hunted man."

"Other offices?"

John grinned. "I think I was up to five."

"Damn. You need to leave better notes."

"If I left notes detailing where all my secret hidden offices are, they wouldn't be very secret, or hidden. And don't think I'm showing you all of them. I might need to hide from you some day."

Lorne chuckled, the laugher finally reaching his eyes. "By then, I'll be onto you. I'll track you down."

"I'm good at hide and seek. And hey, if we're busy playing cat and mouse, we have an excuse as to why the paperwork didn't get done!"

"Tell that to Doctor Weir when she's looking for a mission report."

"Yeah, I just tend to put those off until she starts giving me the evil eye. She wants you to believe she'll do horrible things to you if you don't turn them in on time, but honestly they're pretty low on the priority list most days. Why do you think I have such a back-log?"

"Your mission schedule, of course," Lorne said with a smile as he settled back into the chair next to John.

"Well, that too, yeah." John ran his free hand through his hair, still gripping his tags with the other. "It's a balancing act—reports, missions, meetings, playing light switch. Add the civilian needs, and the need to train, and everything else, and it does get...complicated. It makes it hard to have a personal life, I know. But that's another benefit of dating a geek—they'll only let you push yourself so far before they get huffy and demand attention."

"No kidding," Evan said, rolling his eyes. "And they don't give up when they get something into their geeky little brains, either."

John laughed again. "Nope. Although, at the end of the day, at least Rodney knows I'm in charge. That gives me a slim advantage."

"You've got one up on me, then."

"Parrish wears the pants, hmmm?" John grinned at his XO. "That's all right, Evan, we can't win them all. And really, do you have any complaints?"

Lorne blushed again. "Sometimes I'd just like him to actually listen to me."

"Have you told him that? I mean, actually sat him down and told him, not yelling in the field. It took me a while to figure it out, but the yelling in the field thing is just white noise unless someone is shooting at them. And then it isn't exactly a great time for those little chats."

"We're…we're still figuring things out."

Smiling, John shook his head. "If he's worth it, be willing to stick it out. You weren't here for the whole episode when Rodney left me because I fucked up. That wasn't a fun month. But I did learn that even though I make the rules, he's the one with all the power. I'm only good so long as he's willing to give it up to me. It was a hard lesson—but Parrish seems like he's worth the same amount of effort."

"I think so." Lorne sighed. "Speaking of which…I should be heading out."

"Take the rest of the day off. You look like you can use the rest, and I'm sure if you look this bad, Parrish can use the rest too. Make up an excuse and haul him off to the west pier or something. You'll both feel better and things won't seem so overwhelming tomorrow."

"It's almost dinner, sir. Day's just about over." Lorne rose again, this time pausing by the door. "Keep those tags safe next time."

He smiled again. "Hopefully there won't be a next time for this. And thanks again."

"Not a problem, sir." Another smile and nod of his head, and Lorne was gone, letting the doors close behind him.

John stared down at the tags in his hand. With shaking hands, he slipped them over his head, sighing as the familiar—and unfamiliar now—weight settled against his chest. It was like a piece of him he didn't even know was missing had clicked back into place. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled. Maybe he would be okay eventually after all.

***

Carson had come back to the infirmary with John’s dinner, and was surprised to see Evan Lorne leaving Sheppard’s room. Not because seeing the soldier here was unusual—he visited at least once a day—but for the first time in a while, he was smiling, his eyes unshadowed. “What brings you to the infirmary this evening?”

Lorne jumped, but offered Carson a smile. "I knew Sheppard was going to be free of the restraints today and I didn't want to hang onto his tags any longer."

"You gave them back? How did he take it?" Carson knew John was struggling to readapt, so he hoped the tags would be a positive development. "I had forgotten about them, honestly."

"A little…overwhelmed, but very grateful."

"Good. And you're looking a wee bit better yourself. Finally convinced he is'na saving up to kill you later?"

"Cadman still might, but I think I’m safe with Sheppard."

Carson laughed. "Laura forgives you Major. Just don't try to, in her words, 'pimp her out again' and you'll be safe."

"Trust me. I have no intention of that ever happening again. You can tell her that if you want." Lorne chuckled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Let me get going. That smells wonderful."

Carson shook his head but continued to chuckle. "Aye. Go, off with you. And get some sleep! If you don't, I'll be forced to do something about it."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Lorne said, walking away. "Talk to me once Sheppard's back on his feet."

"Sleep!" Carson called it out after him, getting a hand wave as the soldier disappeared out the door. "Bloody hell. It wasn't bad enough I had Sheppard and McKay to worry about, now they're rubbing off on Zelenka and Lorne."

A familiar head popped out of the nearby door.

"Do I smell French fries?" John's tags were dangling from around his neck.

"Maybe. What did you order for dinner?" Carson asked, rolling his eyes as he moved past John into the private room.

Sheppard stole several fries off the tray—he was a lot more like himself than he had been since he got back. "God, French fries... What else is on that magic tray?"

"Food—or some close approximation. You seem better."

John fiddled with his tags. "Lorne said I should thank you for spotting these."

Carson ducked his head. "It's not everyday you see that in a store window. Knew it would be hard to replace the ring."

John's fist closed around the metal. "Thank you. I can't promise I won't still have issues, especially in the short term, but... it's like a puzzle. This is one of the corners."

"Glad to help and I'll continue to do so until you're back to normal. So," he said, raising an eyebrow at John. "What do you think about tonight? Here or your quarters? What are you more comfortable with?"

"My quarters." John only hesitated for a fraction of a second.

"You'll have to come back here in the morning."

"I will."

"And if you have any…any…complications, you will contact me, no matter what time it is. Correct?"

"Yes, sir." John made his eyes wide.

"Don't try that innocent look on me. It doesn't work," he said, moving toward the door.

"Come on, Carson, give me a radio. If I find myself dropping to my knees and unable to get up, or raiding botany on the off-chance they're cultivating pria somewhere in there, I'll let you know."

"Of course you'll have a radio. I have no intention of releasing you without one. And you're not officially released. You're still under doctor's care. I just thought you might like a little time to get settled."

"Understood. I'll be good, and you know where to find me."

Carson nodded, eyeing John carefully before nodding. "Find me after you're done with dinner and I'll walk you down." He paused for a long moment, Sheppard waiting for him to continue. "We're going to work this out. No doubting. Okay?"

"Well, I can't promise not to doubt at all. But... if we can find Rodney, then yeah, I think we can work out my new little personality kinks."

Carson chuckled and shook his head. "We'll find him, but I'd rather you be yourself before we do." There was no telling what kind of work he and Kate would have to go through with Rodney after this.

John's expression darkened for a moment. "I hope it doesn't take us that long to get him back."

"One step at a time, John. One step at a time."

***

After getting fed dinner, Rodney was fucked twice more during the night, finally falling asleep under mounds of covers on a feather-soft bed with a warm hand on his hip.

He woke the next morning alone in the middle of the large bed, Kolya already gone. A note on the side table told him to use the bathroom to prepare himself for the day and that Kolya would return with breakfast.

Instead of a bath, he took a quick shower and toweled dry, walking back into the bedroom to find Kolya waiting for him.

"You look rested."

Rodney nodded, moving toward the other man. "Yes. Thank you," he said quietly.

"Good. I have a question for you and you can choose to say no if you so decide." Kolya stepped to the table, lifting an item from the breakfast tray. A plug—and not a small one. "I know you were worried about the guards…violating you. Would you feel more comfortable, safe, if you wore this?"

Rodney tugged his eyes away from the plug in Kolya's hands, knowing his expression was wide open. He loved that full feeling, loved how it felt, how John would be so happy with him when he wore it for him. But this was different…Kolya was right. He'd be safe from the guards. "I…I don't know," he said quietly, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.

"You could take it out whenever you wished," Kolya continued, his free hand trailing over the side of Rodney's face. "I'll make sure the lab bathroom is stocked with additional towels to clean yourself if you do. And if you need to take it out for other reasons, I'll make sure you have the appropriate items to put it back into place if you wish."

Kolya paused, turning Rodney's face up. "I would like it if you decide to wear it because I do not wish anyone else to have you. The choice is yours."

Leaning against Kolya, his arms wrapped around the other man's waist, Rodney held his eyes for a long moment. He would feel safer in the labs. The guards would not remove it and disobey Kolya so defiantly. And he did like it. "I can change my mind later?"

"Of course." The answer was immediate, without hesitation.

"Okay," Rodney said quietly, his mind made up. "I want you to put the plug in."

"Are you certain? I did not wish to press you into it even though it is what I would like."

"Please," Rodney said, his voice a little firmer. "I want it."

Kolya kissed him roughly, openly before turning him to the bed. He positioning Rodney with his ass in the air as he carefully stretched him, apologizing when Rodney winced, as the plug slid into place—a little larger than the one he wore for John. It was the only one he had, Kolya said, rubbing his hands over Rodney's back, soothing him, offering praise.

He received his morning injection along with his breakfast.

He spent the day in the lab, sitting gingerly, but comforted in the knowledge that no one would touch him, violate him. He worked through lunch, picking at the tray throughout the afternoon, as he worked through the test results.

Rodney barely felt the second injection when he was given it sometime before Kolya collected him for dinner, absorbed in the data. He answered Kolya's questions, explaining and elaborating when prompted, basking in the praise he received in return.

Kolya removed the plug after dinner, applying cream where he was sore, before seeing him to his own room which had received a face-lift. A new bed stood in the corner, complete with a thicker mattress and several blankets and a pillow. A small rug in the center of the room would keep his feet warm while he ate at the new small wooden table. A sideboard held a pitcher of water and a glass along with a tray of fruit and crackers—for when he woke hungry.

The next day was more of the same except Rodney made sure the plug was in place before the guards brought him to the lab. Numbers and data and figures assaulted his mind, his hand scribbling notes in the book he'd been provided. Page after page of improvements, of formulas, of materials.

Mass production was very different from a prototype.

***

Kate paused just outside Colonel Sheppard's quarters. She'd been working with him for just about a week now and he'd been making progress.

It was slow, but steady, and that's what she liked to see. It didn't make watching the progress any less painful for either of them.

Waving her hand over the door panel to signal her arrival, she waited.

After a long pause, the door slid open. When she stepped inside, she saw John sitting on the bed, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around them. "Kate."

She raised an eyebrow as she entered. He'd been released to his quarters yesterday—no longer required to stay in the infirmary during the day—so it was a little…disconcerting to see him huddled into himself. "John? Is everything okay?"

"This is the longest I've been alone in a month and a half."

"How are you doing?" she asked, taking a seat next to him on the bed, her hand landing gently on his bare forearm.

He leaned into it slightly, something she knew he no longer even noticed doing. "Good and bad. I was all right most of the night. But... it just takes me by surprise sometimes."

This open John was a sharp contrast to the closed off Colonel Sheppard she was used to dealing with. It was as if all his inner walls had been broken down by the drugs, leaving him in an almost childlike state, innocent and free of all the emotional restraints and barriers adults use to protect themselves. He seemed incapable of lying about his emotions or even hiding from them.  

"And you're still sorting through a very traumatic experience. Things like that are to be expected." She paused, offering a smile to the obviously tired and frustrated man next to her. "What took you by surprise this time?"

He dropped his forehead to his knees, sighing. "Waking up alone. I don't know why, but...it was almost a physical blow, to wake up with no one's arms around me, no body heat making skin slick between two people, no one... Considering I went to bed alone that shouldn't have been an issue, but there you have it."

"You've also become used to waking up with Rodney."

"I know. And…even on the days I didn't wake up with Ashira, in his bed, I remember my...trainers, they were usually there in the mornings I think. I never woke up alone."

"In bed with you or in the room?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Sitting on the edge of the bed. Usually with a hand on my leg or arm. I don't think I was ever left alone or without contact for long. Some of it was the drugs, and they knew I needed it, but it was also... comforting. To always know there was someone close."

"You know there is always someone close at hand here as well, don't you? Carson, myself, your team, Elizabeth. None of us are ever far."

He shook his head against his knees. "I know. I do, it's just... damn it. I can't walk around asking people to fucking touch me all the time. And I can't ask someone to sit in my room while I sleep so I'm not alone. I need to get over this."

"Why can't you ask one of us? Do you believe we would think any less of you? That is changes who you are?"

He finally lifted his head, and she could see the dark circles under his eyes. "I'm a Lieutenant Colonel in the USAF and the military commander of an outpost in another galaxy. Touchy-feely isn't in my job description."

"Right now you are John Sheppard who also happens to be a Lieutenant Colonel in the USAF and the military commander of an outpost in another galaxy and who also just went through a very trying and what could have been an emotionally devastating series of events."

He swallowed and put his head back on his knees. When he spoke again, she had to strain to hear it. "Is it wrong to... to miss just being Jita sometimes? No worries, no responsibilities. My entire life revolving around feeling good."

"No, not at all. All of us feel that way to some degree. It's natural." Kate moved her hand, stroking lightly against his arm. "Was your life before absent of times when you simply could just feel good?"

"I can never forget where we are, or what my responsibilities are. Even when I push them into the background, I still know they're there. As Jita... nothing else mattered. I didn't have to hide that I was attracted to someone, didn't have to worry about what anyone thought. Didn't have to always plan for contingencies or write letters to families talking around why their son or daughter died. I could just feel pleasure, just enjoy being touched."

"But knowing what you know now, that much of that…feeling was induced by a drug that you were given, could you see yourself living like that?"

He was silent for a long time. "I don't know. And that's what scares me."

"You would choose a life of drugged obedience to what you have with Rodney, with others? Be honest, John. Be honest with yourself."

"No." It came immediately this time. "I just... I don't know what I want, honestly. I know I want Rodney, and I want to be here, on Atlantis. This base, these people, are mine to protect. But I also... I wish I could have both. I still want the pria, although it isn't as bad now. I wish... I wish I dared use it once we get Rodney back. That I knew I could escape for a little while, really forget about everything except the physical pleasure. God, I'm so fucked up right now, aren't I?"

"No, John. No, you're not. You're examining yourself, your life, which is natural, but you're also coming down from being dependent on a very powerful drug for a month. But think of this: who says that you can't escape for a little while? I've been pushing Elizabeth to permit more time off to expedition members. You need it; we all need it."

He sighed, leaning a little further into her hand. "The Wraith don't recognize vacation days. Taking time off is... difficult. Especially if I want to take it with Rodney. Having two senior staff members out at the same time is problematic, and what's the point of taking it alone? God, I'm sorry. I was making progress, then I take two steps back."

Kate squeezed his arm. "You're doing fine. Don't beat yourself up over it or get disappointed. There's no straight or direct path you are supposed to follow. Everyone's progress is different. Just concentrate on you and getting it straight in your own head." She offered a smile. "Okay?"

He lifted his head to smile—a weak smile, but she would take what she could get. He also relaxed a little more, uncurling from around himself some. "I'm trying. And hey, did you know Lorne found my tags?" He pulled them out so she could see, his smile getting wider, more genuine as he looked at them. "I still can't believe he actually found them."

"I had heard," she said. "I saw the chain around your neck yesterday. But when you didn't mention anything, I didn't want to ask in case I had heard wrong."

He ran his fingers over them, and over the ring hanging with them, his expression turning wistful, a light hesitant smile on his lips. "It's funny. I've worn these for the better part of my adult life. I didn't realize how...naked...I was without them. And the ring... I actually feel more like John Sheppard now."

"You've never talked about the time you got the ring. I'm guessing you purchased it…purchased them."

He looked surprised, but was still smiling, his attention focused on it. "It was while we were on leave, on Earth. We argued about it for a bit, before we realized we were actually on the same page."

"Why did you argue?"

John continued to smile, obviously lost in memory. "We still hadn't moved to the point where Rodney was willing to accept submission outside the bedroom. He said I was being reckless, and had gotten it into his head that I wasn't around for the long-haul from a stupid comment I made. We'd been shopping, buying clothes for vacation, and he just got more pissed when I paid for the stuff. Then we split up in the mall and I looked at rings. Decided not to buy them without asking, since I didn't want to push him further away. He managed to surprise the hell out of me a little later when he not only liked the idea, but bought these on the spot."

Kate chuckled. "He surprises you a lot, doesn't he?"

He looked up. "Yeah. He really does. It's one of the things I love about him—keeps me on my toes." Swallowing, he dropped his head. "I miss him, Kate. God, I need him here, but even when we do find him, there's no telling…how am I going to be strong for him when I'm barely holding myself together?"

"Why don't we take it one step at a time? But I have to tell you that from what I've seen, both of you have always risen to the occasion."

"We're better together than apart, as sappy as it sounds."

"It's not sappy as long as it works for you." She smiled again, squeezing his arm. "Feeling better than when I walked in?"

He snorted softly. "Yes, damn you. I wish I knew how you did that."

"You did it all yourself, John." She smiled again before patting his arm and rising. "Should I swing by later to chat again?"

"I'm sure I can use the company... you know, if you aren't busy..."

"That wasn't what I asked."

He mock-glared. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

Kate widened her eyes as she looked at him. "Make you say what?"

"Yes, I want you to come back because I don't really want to be alone. There, happy now?"

"Are you?"

He stuck his tongue out and then grinned. "Wow, I really am twelve. But I gotta say, I do feel better."

"Good. So I'll stop by tonight and if you need anything, feel free to call anyone. We're here to help."

"Thanks." He smiled.

"You are very welcome," she said, giving John a wave and a smile as she left. He still had a way to go, but he was on the right track. But if they didn't find Rodney soon…

She sighed. If they didn't find Rodney soon, things might do a complete about-face and she wasn't prepared to let that happen.

***

Wearing BDUs again was…odd. But he didn't want to be seen in scrubs, and that was the only other option at the moment. John was wandering around Atlantis somewhat aimlessly since he wasn't back on duty yet, and didn't need to be in the infirmary for a check in for a while yet. He avoided populated areas, but it was still nice to get out and walk.

True to her word, Kate had stopped by again last night, and then again this morning. As much as it was odd to crave the companionship, he had to admit it was kinda nice to have people to talk to. And none of them seemed to mind the casual touches that were getting him through the days, so… it was okay. Not great, since they still hadn't found Rodney, but…okay. Better.

Every day seemed a little bit easier overall, although he did still have backslides. Both Carson and Kate assured him that was normal—in fact, some people recovering from drug or alcohol addiction had to fight cravings and urges for the rest of their lives. They didn't think he was that bad, but they warned him it could be weeks, if not months, of occasional random cravings sneaking up on him.

Joy.

He actually heard Ronon about a split second before the Satedan was sliding up beside him.

Of everyone, Ronon's touches surprised him the most. He didn't think the large man would have even understood the need, much less cater to it so...delicately. "Hey, big guy. Out for a walk too?"

He grunted in reply, otherwise offering a silent nod.

Since he wasn't heading anywhere in particular, John was content to let Ronon steer him. He had no idea what the former Runner was up to, but he welcomed the companionship, especially since he didn't have to say much. He was doing a lot more soul searching with both Kate and Carson than he had ever done in his life, so quiet companionship now and then was a nice change.

Ronon walked them toward one of the piers, the breeze blowing their hair as they reached the end. "You're better," he finally said, eyeing John carefully.

Leaning against the railing, John nodded slowly. "Getting there. More and more myself every day."

Ronon nodded. "Why do your people get funny when I talk about certain things?"

Blinking at the seeming nonsequitur, John cut his eyes over. "Ah, what?"

"Lorne. He turns red. So does Beckett. Teyla just rolls her eyes."

"I think I'm missing something here. Back up for me. What did you say that got that reaction?"

"A few things." He shrugged again. "Back on the planet after we found Teyla."

"And? I can't tell you why they reacted funny if you don't tell me what they reacted to."

"Lorne was complaining about Parrish not listening. Said he was going to get himself captured or killed. I told him it was counterproductive if he wanted to fuck Parrish that night."

John just stared at his teammate for a heartbeat, then he couldn't help it, he started to laugh. "Oh God, no wonder the two of them blushed." His sides were starting to hurt—he didn't think he had laughed this hard in a while, but he could picture the setting, and it struck him as really, really funny.

"Sheppard?" Ronon asked a few minutes later before continuing. "This isn't helping."

"Sorry... Ah, on our planet, sex is...considered a touchy subject by some cultures. Well, by most of them I suppose. And same-sex relationships even more so. Lorne and I...we can't allow our superiors to even suspect that our partners are men, and Beckett... he just turns red at the mention of sex in general. I had hoped Laura would cure him of that, but apparently not."

"But you gave McKay a collar."

"Well, yes. But it looks enough like a necklace that we can get away with it. And the general consensus is that I'm more reckless than either of them anyway."

"So you shouldn't have?" Ronon looked constipated—or confused.

"Probably not." John grinned at him. "But McKay and I are a little unusual. And as far as I know, Lorne didn't realize anyone had noticed he was with Parrish. I made him turn red when I brought it up, too."

"They squabble."

"We call it snark. And yeah, they do. But not everyone who does that is fucking. McKay and Zelenka snark all the time, but I'd have to kill Radek if he even thought about touching Rodney. And I'd hate to do that since he's a friend."

"No. He wants Weir. There are others on base, though."

John chuckled. "He would be good for Elizabeth. But she's still upset over that fucker on Earth who broke her heart. I'm hoping she'll come around. As for the others...if they're soldiers, I don't want to know about it. I don't really care, but plausible deniability is a beautiful thing in the United States military."

Ronon shook his head. "It's easy to see if you're looking."

"I know. And I could probably name all the same ones you've noticed. But...unfortunately, the military is still a bit backwards. We could be discharged, even jailed if someone decided they wanted to push it, for this kind of relationship. So you either repress it completely, or you get very, very good at hiding it. On Atlantis, I've made a point of turning the other cheek, so I hope people feel a bit more open, but until the policy is revoked, I have to at least pay lip service to it. Which means I don't officially know about any of them, so I don't officially have to do anything about it."

Ronon looked at him for a long moment before shaking his head again. "Stupid policy."

"Yeah, it really is." John looked out over the water. "I'm still holding out hope that it will change one day. The movement has started, but it could take years to trickle down."

The other man was silent, standing next to John as they both looked out over the water. He finally touched John's shoulder, tipping his head toward Atlantis. "Dinner? I'm hungry."

John shook his head. He was avoiding the mess. He knew by now everyone knew how and where he had spent that month. He wasn't quite ready to face the reactions yet. "Go ahead. I think I'll stay here a little longer."

"You need to eat."

"I will. I have some MREs in my room, or maybe I'll run by the kitchen later for leftovers."

"Teyla's waiting for us."

"If I say no, what will you do?"

Ronon shrugged.

John continued to stare at the water. "Tell Teyla I'll catch up with her later then. I'll grab something to eat in a bit."

"She's waiting now."

"She'll understand."

"I guess," Ronon shrugged again, already turning away.

Dropping his head, John let his eyes close. He missed eating with his team, but he knew Marines. Didn't know if he would be able to handle the looks, the whispers, the hostile stares...

"Thought you were better."

Starting, John hadn't realized Ronon was still here. "I... am. But not all the way yet. The mess... I'm not sure I'm up to that yet."

"Why? Just people."

"People who talk. Whisper. Stare. Plot my death. Who knows what they're thinking."

"Why's it matter?"

"You don't worry about what anyone thinks of you?"

"No. Why should I?"

John looked back out over the water. He was going to have to face the rest of the city sometime. At least now he knew Ronon and Teyla would be there... "If I look like I'm about to drop to my knees, I want your solemn word you'll grab my arm and jerk me to the table."

"Okay."

"I have a hard enough time getting the Marines to respect me. I don't need them to see me begging."

"They won’t."

Taking a deep breath, John turned. "All right, but I reserve the right to turn and run at any point."

Ronon nodded, already moving toward the doors. "You won't need to."

John spent the entire walk to the mess coming up with reasons why this was a bad idea, then berating himself for being a coward. By the time they got there, he took another deep breath. Okay, he could do this.

Ronon turned into the mess, John trailing a few steps behind. But instead of heading for the dinner line he aimed directly for a table in the corner. A table with Lorne and Parrish and Teyla and Carson and Kate and two empty places—with covered dinner plates in front.

Huh. Bastards planned this. John plastered on what he hoped was a pleasant smile, ignoring the way the mess almost seemed to grind to a halt as soon as people realized who had walked in. He ambled over to the table, sliding in, thankful for whoever had chosen a seat with its back to the rest of the room.

"Colonel." "John." "Sheppard." "Sir." The greetings overlapped for a moment before the conversation at the table continued a beat later as if he hadn't arrived.

"Hey." It came out a bit rough, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Um, hey. Thanks for dinner. Ronon didn't tell me we were having a party."

Carson was the closest to him and he turned, flashing a smile. "Party? No, just dinner. Hope you like what we grabbed. Tried to pick something you would eat when Teyla said you were going to join us. "

Nodding, John nibbled on a French fry as he listened to the chatter around him. After that moment of awkward silence, the mess had erupted around them, like everyone was trying to cover for the fact that they had been staring. The spot between his shoulder blades itched.

"You're twitching," Carson whispered.

He forced his muscles to still. "Sorry. I'm...trying. Thanks." He gave the other man a small smile and ate a bite of food.

"You're doing fine. Stop worrying," he said. "How was your walk? You and Ronon bond?"

"We chatted. I tried to explain Earth sexual taboos." John managed to get a small smirk out.

"Bloody…he did not go on about that again, did he?" Carson shook his head, stabbing a carrot. "I thought we'd told him to leave well enough alone…"

"Laura still hasn't broken you of the blushing thing, hmm?" John chuckled when Beckett started to turn a faint shade of pink.

"I'll have you know that I have a very healthy sex life, thank you very much. I just donna need to discuss it with everyone."

"But that's half the fun."

"Och…no. I like my fun in private, thank you very much," Carson muttered, shoving food in his mouth.

John was surprised to feel a hand on his knee, glancing over to catch a smile from Teyla. He relaxed minutely. "So how many people are staring at me, anyway?"

"None."

He raised an eyebrow.

The corner of Teyla's mouth twitched as she moved to push up from her chair. "Would you prefer to eat while others watch? I can inquire if some would stand—"

"Nononono! That's okay! Really!" He widened his eyes purposefully, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

"I am certain some would be willing to stare at you to make you feel more comfortable," Teyla said, tilting her head.

"You are an evil, evil woman." He nudged her with his knee, relaxing again when she grinned slightly and let her hand rest on top of his leg again.

"I am not." She smiled, pushing a piece of honeycake to him.

He smiled, accepting it and eating it. He hummed a little around the cake, noticing that pretty much everyone at the table, if not openly laughing at him, were doing it on the inside. To get even, he let his eyes fall to half-mast and really enjoyed his cake. Rodney said it was a porn face, but it worked equally well to tease well-meaning and very good friends.

He heard Ronon snort while a chuckle echoed down the table from Parrish and Lorne. Carson was muttering under his breath.

This was his family.

***

Carson looked up at a knock on his office door, smiling when he saw Kate Heightmeyer standing in the doorway. “Hello, lass. I did'na realize it was getting so late, forgive me. Come on in.”

"Not a problem. I was a little delayed myself with another case," she said, sliding into the guest chair with a sigh. "Busy?"

"Never too busy for you. Tea?" He pulled a few bags out of his drawer, and held up a spare mug along with his own. He kept a hot plate and a bottle of water nearby for just such occasions.

"I’m good. Heading to dinner after this," she said, chuckling slightly. "Dinner went well yesterday."

He smiled. "Aye, it did. He was a bit stiff at first, but I'm proud of the lad. And he loosened up through the meal. Have you heard any whispers since?"

"All positive. Most of the staff were glad to see him."

Carson nodded. "Aye, what little I've heard has been positive as well. We need to get him out more so he can hear it directly though, although this was a good first step."

"You were right to send Ronon after him."

Chuckling, Carson finished heating the water for his own tea and set it to steep. "Aye, I knew he'd suspect any of us, but not Mister Dex. And Ronon's unusual way of relating to people worked to our advantage."

Kate chuckled. "It also helped Mister Dex to get another perspective of our culture from someone he respects."

Groaning, Carson felt his cheeks get hot again. "Bloody hell. What is it with those boys and the need to talk about private matters all the time?"

"It's one way or the other. You should now that by now, Carson," Kate said, chuckling. "So how's he coming along?"

"John?" Shaking his head, Carson sipped at his tea. "Physically, he's doing verra well. He'll still have cravings and the like for a while, but they're already getting weaker and less frequent. I'm more concerned with his mental state, and that's your department. How's he doing?"

"I'm impressed with his progress. Yesterday was a big step. Doctor Weir said he showed up in the control room this afternoon."

"Aye, he did'na stay long, but he did stop to talk with Campbell for a few minutes."

"While I know he'll have some more setbacks before he's fully back to normal, I think he's progressing very well. We may be able to let him start some light duties within the next week if he keeps going as well as he has been."

Carson hesitated. "How long until the fact that we have'na found Rodney yet sets in with him? And what should we be prepared for if...if the worst happens?"

"He's worried, but he also trusts Lorne. He's not panicking yet."

"And if we dinna find Rodney, or Rodney has been...damaged?"

"I’m hoping his…dominant self will reassert itself if we find Rodney and he's injured. It would probably help him to have something else to worry about, even a little."

"And if we never find Rodney? I think as long as we find him alive John will be okay. But it's been six weeks—if we don't find McKay..."

"Then I'm more than a little worried about John. This…addiction might end up being the least of his worries."

Carson nodded, sighing. "Aye, that's what I was afraid of. If we don't find Rodney, we may well lose John as well."

Kate nodded. "We might."

***

Rodney had spent the last few days between his room and the labs, already filling three blank lined books with notes and figures and calculations. He wished for a mechanical pencil, but was forced to write with an ever-shrinking number two pencil—or at least the Genii's version of one—sharpening it with a small manual sharpener.

At least he got a new pencil every morning.

He was no longer given clothes—Kolya deciding he worked better without them. And it also gave the Commander access to his body whenever he wanted it. With the temperature up slightly, the nudity didn't bother him or stop him from working. And no one looked at him anymore—except Kolya. And Kolya wished him naked. It was as simple as that.

He was fed regularly and left alone so he could work and then Kolya returned for him every night. They'd have dinner and sometimes, if he was in a good mood, Kolya would fuck him, hold him, and touch him. Those nights after Rodney was returned to his room, he slept the best.

He'd grown accustomed to the plug, putting it in every morning before he left for the labs. If Kolya wasn't going to fuck him, the commander would leave it in, sometimes teasing him by running his fingers over it, other times praising him for keeping it in, keeping him safe from the others, saving himself for Kolya.

Rodney craved everything he could get—the touches, the praise, the fucking. He still hadn't been allowed to come—hadn't earned the privilege—but he was content to wait until Kolya thought he deserved it.

Today was like every other day, Rodney spending the time before the guard arrived with his injection and breakfast, scribbling in his book. It was a little complicated to put some of the logistics together, but as long as he could jot his thoughts down he did okay. It helped him remember other things. It was as if the equations and calculations helped to link other scientific thoughts in his mind together, filling the gaps he never remembered having before.

Today, though, Kolya came for him early. At least Rodney assumed it was early since the guard hadn't been expecting him, coming to attention a few seconds too late, surprise on his face.

"Rodney. Eat quickly. You are needed." It was more curt than Kolya had been lately.

McKay nodded, putting himself to the task. He would write down the equation in his head later.

Kolya paced the small cell while he ate, nearly vibrating with impatience.

Shoving the last few bites in his mouth, he chewed and swallowed it down, his eyes watching Kolya carefully.

"Are you finished?"

"Yes, sir," Rodney said quietly, the first stirrings of fear beginning when the other man didn't touch him at all. He'd grown accustomed to the touches, the only ones he received since the guards were not allowed to lay a finger on him unless ordered by Kolya.

"Good. Come." Kolya turned, expecting Rodney to fall in behind him.

With a nod, Rodney jumped to his feet, following close behind even as his mind spun. What was wrong? What had he done wrong? He'd done everything Kolya had asked. Everything. He didn't mean to do something wrong.

He wrapped his arms around his chest, keeping his mouth firmly shut.

Kolya led him to a different part of the base, a place where he had never been before. It was another lab, and there was a device sitting behind a thick wall of solid glass. "That is what the poor excuses for scientists I have working for me dreamed up to complete this project before you joined us. It was not wholly abandoned, but has begun to malfunction. I need to know if there is anything you can do to shut it off before I lose more men."

Rodney felt his eyes widen. Oh god. Radiation. Death! Notes. He needed notes. "Do you have their notes?"

Kolya pointed to a table, where a small number of notebooks had been tossed. "That is all I was able to collect from them."

"How much time?" Rodney asked, already moving to the table.

"It began emitting strange readings last night, but I was not informed until this morning. It does not appear to be going critical, however I would like it shut down sooner, rather than later."

"Can I have an hour to read their notes?"

"You have it." Kolya began to pace the small room.

Rodney got to work, but was distracted by Kolya's pacing. He could feel the man's tension across the room.

"I am going to my office. I will return in an hour for your assessment." The commander didn't even bother to look back as he strode from the room.

By the time Kolya returned, Rodney was ready to report.

"Well? Can you stop it?"

"No, but I do have a solution."

"Tell me."

"If the core is removed, the device will still count down, but there will be nothing to ignite."

Kolya nodded. "But? There is always a but, Rodney."

He nodded. "The housing for the core is not safe and long term exposure will kill anyone in contact with it. It needs to be taken out of the labs and disposed of, hopefully somewhere without people."

"And for whomever removes it from the casing? How much exposure is fatal?"

"Whoever was working on it has probably already received a lethal dose. A little more won't do any harm. The removal of the core is easy."

Kolya looked at one of the guards. "Get Lessine down here now."

Rodney didn't know who Lessine was and wasn't about to ask. If Kolya wished him to know, he would tell him.

A few minutes later a cold-looking man in the garb of the scientists arrived. "You called for me, Commander?"

Rodney waited, looking back and forth between the man and Kolya. There was no love lost between the two. Instinctively, Rodney took a step back, angling himself behind Kolya.

"You will remove the core from that device and deliver it to the surface for disposal."

The man—Lessine, Rodney assumed—tilted his chin up. "It can't be done."

Kolya glanced at Rodney. "Tell him how to do it."

"Yes, sir."

Lessine sneered. "With all due respect Commander, he is a slave. I am your top scientific advisor. If I say it cannot be done—"

Kolya cut him off. "You are a fool and you will obey my orders if you wish to keep your life. Rodney."

"Yes, sir," Rodney said, moving forward, pausing under the glare he received as Lessine looked him over—up and down. For the first time in weeks, Rodney blushed, remembering he was in nothing but his own skin and the few embellishments Kolya allowed.

"Your place is not so secure that you can afford to anger me, Lessine." Kolya's voice had dropped into the 'dangerous' zone.

After a long moment, the scientist nodded, but his expression remained hard. Rodney explained the procedure and the recommended disposal of the core. It wasn't difficult, but would only require a sure hand.

"Ridiculous. Commander, this is foolishness. He lies."

Rodney shook his head, looking at Kolya with wide eyes. He wasn't lying. He wasn't.

Kolya, however, took a step forward and closed his hand around Lessine's throat. "You will follow his instructions to the letter, or you will die now. Choose quickly."

Lessine squeaked out an answer that was apparently the one Kolya was looking for because the commander let him go, leaving him coughing and choking.

"Do it now. And I will be watching from here. Should you decide to deviate, you will be killed as soon as you exit the room. Do you understand?"

Lessine nodded, moving into the other room after gathering the appropriate tools, Rodney pointing to one or two others as well as a pair of well-insulated gloves. The scientist scowled, but took them.

The removal of the core didn't take long, but Lessine was sweating by the time he was done, putting it in a small case for transport.

While they watched, Kolya, not taking his eyes off Lessine, addressed Rodney again. "He has been the lead researcher on this project. How long can he expect to live, given the level he has been exposed to?"

"Based on his notes and the dates he lists…" Rodney hesitated before continuing. "A month? Maybe two. It's hard to say. I’m sorry."

Kolya merely smiled. After the man had been decontaminated and rejoined them, the commander delivered the news of Lessine's impending mortality.

"That's impossible. He's lying."

Kolya smirked again. "I guess we shall see. If you are still alive in three months, I will consider the possibility."

Lessine turned red, but didn't say anything as Kolya lead Rodney from the room.

"Excellent work, Rodney." Kolya trailed his fingers along Rodney's arm.

Rodney preened under the praise. "I'm sorry it wasn't better news."

"Lessine is a problem I had not gotten around to dealing with yet. This solves that nicely."

Rodney nodded, letting Kolya lead him back down to the area they used. Instead of bringing him to the lab, however, Kolya was walking them toward his private quarters. Rodney glanced up, his eyes widening in surprise.

"You have pleased me greatly today, Rodney. I think you deserve the one reward I have not yet allowed you to have." He reached down to cup the chastity cage briefly.

Oh god. Rodney moaned a little, tilting his head up toward Kolya.

"Soon, pet." Kolya chuckled and continued to lead him to his quarters.

Rodney could feel his anticipation rising, easily keeping pace with the taller man. He craved that touch, needed it, and wanted it.

When they arrived in his room. Kolya took his time, moving around slowly, from the smirk Kolya knew the delay was killing Rodney. "I have to leave for a few days after this. So I need to make sure you do not forget who you belong to, don't I?"

Rodney nodded, the words falling immediately from his mouth with determination and surety. "I belong to Acastus Kolya." Kolya kept him safe. Cared for him. He was Kolya's.

"Very good. Come here, Rodney." Kolya held out a hand from where he was standing by the bed. In his hand was a small key he had retrieved from somewhere.

McKay moved immediately, standing where Kolya indicated. He could feel his heart beating as he anticipated every touch.

The other man began to caress him. Kolya's hands moved lower, and after a faint click, the chastity cage that Rodney had worn for six weeks was pulled away. "Get hard for me, pet. Let me see just how well-endowed you really are."

Rodney arched into every touch, every caress. His cock lengthened and hardened in Kolya's hand even as he shifted forward trying to get more contact. His hands reached around to pull the other man closer.

"Ah ah. Hold still, Rodney. You will take what I give you." Kolya pushed him back, forcing him to stand so the only point of contact was the feather-light touches along the length of his cock.

He whimpered, needing, wanting more. "Please."

Kolya just chuckled and continued to torment him, never giving him more than fleeting caresses.

It only took a few minutes to get Rodney panting and moaning, desperate for more.

"Tell me, Rodney, how long can you hold off an orgasm? How much can you take before it becomes too much?"

"Never…never timed it." Oh god. But he wanted it now.

"Ah, so you have played with orgasm denial before. Excellent. Do not come until you are ordered to."

"Please…oh god, please," he whispered, opening his eyes wide, knowing they were dilated and filled with need.

"You've been waiting quite some time. A few more minutes won't hurt you." Kolya paced around him, touching him occasionally. The commander never took off his clothes, only opened his pants enough to pull himself out when he was ready to fuck Rodney. So every now and then, in addition to the deliberate touches, Rodney could feel the rough pull of fabric passing by.

Rodney was lost in a world of sensation and need and want, moaning and whimpering as he hung on, his desire only growing with each passing second.

Finally stopping right behind Rodney, Kolya got his fingers around the plug and began to move it a few inches in and out, fucking Rodney with it. "Soon pet. I will let you have your reward soon."

"Will…will you fuck me?" he managed to ask, the whispered words forced out between pants.

"Perhaps later. You will take what I choose to give you, Rodney."

"Yes…yes, sir," he moaned.

Kolya's other hand snaked around to begin stroking Rodney's weeping erection with firm, slow movements.

Rodney remained still, trying not to buck into Kolya's hand. The other man finally stepped closer, pressing close to Rodney's back, his other hand tugging him close as he played with his nipple rings.

"Tell me what you are thinking of right now, Rodney."

"Want to come…so badly."

"Yes, I know you do. What else?"

"Want…want you to fuck me. Oh…want to fly."

"Fly?" He could hear the question in Kolya's voice.

"…always made me fly…"

"Sheppard?"

Rodney nodded, whimpering as Kolya's hand paused.

"Tell me, Rodney, because I am curious. You are so devoted to him. I had assumed you were, I believe the term is 'fuck buddies'. But I am beginning to wonder if it is perhaps more."

"What?" Rodney asked, confused and desperate to come.

"Your relationship with Sheppard? He means much to you, doesn't he? And you to him."

Rodney nodded, turning his head slightly so his cheek was pressed against Kolya's chest. "Lovers."

Kolya began to stroke him again. "I must admit, I would have imagined you would kill one another before imagining you as lovers."

Rodney moaned, panting again as Kolya picked up the pace.

"But his loss is my gain. Come now, Rodney."

The arousal that had been pooling in the base of his spine—nearly six weeks of pent up sexual tension—came spilling out over Kolya's hand as Rodney shuddered. He came hard, so very hard, his knees buckling. If it weren't for Kolya's hands on him, Rodney knew he would have fallen, but he didn't care. Things went blurry at about that point and when he came to, he was lying on his side on the bed, Kolya smiling down at him.

"I have never actually seen anyone pass out from orgasm. It was most enlightening."

"Sorry," he whispered, moving to get up, but stopping when Kolya shook his head.

"It is all right. Stay here and rest. I have business I must attend to before I leave this evening, but I will return for you in a bit." When Rodney shifted he could feel that the cage was back in place.

"But…I should go back to work…"

"While your dedication is noted and appreciated, I am giving you the day off. Rest. You may use the facilities to shower or bathe and you may shave if you wish. I will return for dinner."

Rodney nodded, slumping back into the bed as Kolya left. He ended up napping for a while, waking up mid-afternoon sometime, a lunch tray on the bedside table. He ate and took a bath, leaving the light stubble. He didn't trust himself with the straight razor.

When dinner rolled around, Kolya came in again. This time, he was dressed differently, in what looked closer to the uniforms Rodney had seen him in before. "I am leaving soon, Rodney, but I wanted to escort you back to your own room first. How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Rodney said. "When are you coming back?"

"Three days. In the meantime, I want you to continue your work on the notes for the mass production of the weapon. I hope to secure a deal that will ensure you have all the materials you need."

Rodney ducked his head in a half nod. "Of course."

"Very good." He held out a hand and led Rodney back to his cell.

Once there, Rodney couldn't help but shudder, worried as to what would happen when Kolya was gone. Without him here would he be safe?

Kolya cupped his face. "Do not worry. You will be fine."

He leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. Why couldn't he stay?

A thumb brushed against his lips. "You will be fine. My men have orders, and they will not disobey me. Now, I must leave. Behave, Rodney, and I will reward you again when I return."

"I will," Rodney said quietly, his tongue lightly touching Kolya's thumb.

"Very good. You please me greatly, Rodney."

"I want to," he said, looking up with wide eyes. Pleasing Kolya meant rewards, touches, fucks.

With another smile, Kolya patted his cheek, then turned and left.

While Rodney knew he had work to do, it would start tomorrow. He could spend the night dreaming of Kolya and how he touched him and made him fly.

***

Elizabeth Weir moved through the control room, her coffee cup in hand. It was almost time for the daily update from Ashira and at the present time, she wasn't very…happy about his substantial lack of information.

While she didn't doubt his sincerity, she felt like they were caught in one big holding pattern. Two teams were still doing their own legwork, Lorne's being one of them.

But it didn't make it any easier when she caught sight of John walking aimlessly through the hallways. He'd been returned to light duty, but was still not right. Kate and Carson convinced her he would be but they were also reaching a tipping point. If they didn't find Rodney soon, they were almost certain of a back-slide.

She offered the technician a smile as he prepared the morning dial-in. "Morning, Chuck."

"Good morning, ma'am." He offered a slight smile.

"All quiet?"

"Well, Colonel Sheppard wandered in right at shift change, but he didn't stay long. Otherwise, no ma'am, all's been quiet."

Weir's eyebrow rose. "He was up that early?"

Chuck coughed. "I'm not sure he actually went to bed."

This time she turned a stern look on the Canadian. "What do you mean?"

Chuck flushed a bit. "We thought you knew, ma'am. The Colonel wanders in here most mornings about that time, if not a little before. We've been keeping an eye on him, and from what we can tell, he spends most of the nights just walking around the halls."

Weir sighed. And she thought he was getting better.

Chuck glanced up at her. "And as far as I know, ma'am, he's in your office now..."

She turned, angling her head so she could see around the support columns. Sure enough, there was a dark-haired, grey-clothed man wandering around in her office. "When…he's been here since the shift change?"

"More or less, ma'am. I think he wanders out every now and then... But he was asking about the check-in time, so I think that's what he's waiting for."

"Where is Major Lorne?"

"Not here yet. I can page him for you if you'd like though."

"I can see he's not here…" She sighed. "Yes, call him. Don't page him over the city systems unless he doesn't answer. I’ll be in my office."

"Yes, ma'am." Chuck turned to access the equipment to find her missing Major.

Elizabeth took a breath and walked across the bridge to her office, pausing at the door and putting on a smile. "Colonel, do you mind if I come in?"

He jumped, whirling around. "Elizabeth! When did you learn to move so quietly?"

"I've been getting lessons from Doctor Parrish in my spare time," she said, moving into her office. "You're up early."

He stepped aside, leaning against the wall. "Yeah, I heard... Ashira would be checking in soon. I was here anyway, so I thought I would stick around and hear what he had to say."

"Uh huh," she said, taking a moment to look him over as she sipped her tea. He looked tired, but that was expected if he'd been up all night. But there was a restlessness in his body that she wasn't used to.

He pushed off from the wall and started to pace a bit. "I've been cleared for light duty, and it's not like a check-in is really all that strenuous. So I'm not even breaking doctor's orders."

"I didn't say anything."

He paused, tossing an almost nervous grin in her direction. "Well, you know, thought I'd head off any objections at the pass. What time do we dial out?"

"As soon as Major Lorne can find his way to the control room," she said, moving around behind her desk to check her email. "You glad to be back at work?"

"Oh, ah good. And yeah. Gives me something to do. I know Lorne's happy to be able to pass some of it off again."

"You're actually enjoying the paperwork?" she asked, spotting about a dozen emails from Sheppard—all reports.

He had sat when she did, but he was bouncing his leg continuously. "It has to be done, right? I didn't exactly leave Lorne up-to-date, and he's fallen even further behind. So...you know, I'm catching up."

She pinned him with a look. "Are you okay?"

He shifted in his seat, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Sure, yeah, never better. They wouldn't have released me if I wasn't, right? So, when is the check-in again?"

"John." Her voice was quiet. "Are you okay?"

He stilled, lowering his head for a moment. "We need to find him."

"I know. We're trying."

"I know you are. I wasn't... I'm not accusing you or anything. I just... We need to find him."

"John, we're doing the best we can."

"I know." He was quiet for a moment and then was on his feet again. "Major Lorne is here. That's what you were waiting for, right. Lorne." John smiled as the other man popped his head in the office.

Weir sighed quietly as she rose, shooting the Major a concerned look in reference to Sheppard. He seemed to understand immediately.

"Ma'am, sir," he said. "Sorry I’m late. Got a later start than I wanted. Are we ready to dial?"

John didn't follow them all the way to the control consoles, stopping to lean against a wall near Elizabeth's office. Chuck looked up as Elizabeth approached with Evan. "Ma'am, Sir. I'm ready when you are."

"Anytime is good," Lorne said, positioning himself next to Chuck.

The technician quickly dialed the gate, followed by the familiar kawoosh and the wormhole. "Connection is established. Any time you're ready Doctor Weir."

"Doctor Weir to Jacquil, please come in." She waited a few seconds before a voice came over the speakers.

"Ah, Doctor Weir. I am here."

From just outside Weir's office, John's indrawn breath was loud.

"Jacquil, it is good to speak with you again. We are calling for our morning update."

"Yes, and I am most pleased to have something for you. My master, Ashira, has bid me to invite you, with all haste, to send your Major Lorne to his court. He has retrieved information he believes will be useful to you."

Lorne shifted forward. "Hadrious has finally given you information?"

"Ah, Major, you are present as well, excellent. Yes, Ashira has persuaded the slaver to divulge the information you requested. However, he wishes to share it with you personally, hence the invitation, instead of me merely relaying it to you now."

Lorne shot Elizabeth a sidelong glance, receiving her nod. "As soon as I can get my team together we shall leave. Give us about an hour."

"I will look forward to speaking with you then. Jacquil out."

Weir turned, heading for her office to make the arrangements, only to find Sheppard right behind her, his expression determined.

"I'm going with them."

"My office, Colonel, Major," she said, stepping around him. This was not a conversation she was going to have in the control room.

John was right behind her, and as soon as the doors swished shut, he crossed his arms and repeated himself. "I'm going."

"You're still not cleared for full duty, let alone off-world missions, Colonel," she said, turning to face him.

"I've been cleared enough, and McKay is a member of my team. I need to be there to hear the information first hand."

"Major Lorne is perfectly capable of getting the information, Colonel."

Giving up the still position, John started to pace again. "I know that, and I'm not suggesting he can't. But I need to go, Elizabeth. Please."

"You're not cleared to go off-world."

"I'll get the clearance."

Weir sighed. "I'll go back to the point that Major Lorne is perfectly capable."

Several emotions flickered across John's face—he still hadn't completely regained the ability to hide them—"I need to go."

"I don't have an issue with him going with me, ma'am," Lorne said quietly. Weir shot him a "you too" look.

John threw a grateful look at Lorne before continuing. "For the mission, I'll defer to Lorne as the team commander. I'll just be there to observe."

"I won't approve it until both Carson and Kate sign off on it."

"I'll have their permission within the hour."

"I want the paperwork on my desk," Weir said to Sheppard's back as he hurried out of her office leaving her alone with Lorne.

He watched Sheppard's back until the other man was gone. "I'll keep an eye on him, ma'am."

"If he gets so much as a scratch…"

"I'm dog meat. I know. But maybe this will be what he needs."

Weir sighed. "I don't know what he needs, but we need to find it fast."

***

John had gotten, with much begging, Carson and Kate to both sign off on his accompanying Major Lorne's team. They had done so reluctantly, after he'd begged and pleaded, finally admitting to Kate that he needed to go to try and get some closure.

They'd given him permission. But he had conditions—he had to obey any orders the Major might give, and the permission extended to this mission, and this one only.

It felt odd to be fully suited up again, his tac vest feeling too tight, and the P90 both a familiar and an unfamiliar weight at the same time. He actually beat Lorne to the jumper bay, leaning against the hull trying for casual. "Major. We about ready to head out?"

"In a few minutes, sir. Need the rest of my team first and I have to do a pre-flight. You know the routine," he said, walking past him into the jumper, dumping his gear in the back before continuing to the pilot's seat.

John followed him in, hesitating before dropping into the co-pilot's seat. Hopefully Parrish wouldn't mind. "I'll do my best to stay out of your way."

"Parrish might protest. He likes the front seat."

Trying not to fidget, John nodded. "I figured. But he's not here yet. I'll move when he comes in."

Lorne was silent, working through the set-up for the mission, checking everything thoroughly. His team trickled in about five minutes later, chatting quietly. Parrish looked at John for a moment before taking the seat directly behind Lorne, the other two settling in the back as the rear hatch closed.

John shot the scientist a grateful look. He knew he wasn't cleared to fly, but being able to see out made him feel a lot better. It was odd enough to be on a mission with a team that wasn't his, in a jumper he wasn't flying.

Lorne tapped his radio. "Jumper three to flight. We're ready down here." Confirmation came a few seconds later and they were off. Less than a minute later and Lorne was steering the jumper south.

John had to consciously force himself to remain still. He was returning to Ashira's court. He was going to see his former master, and Jacquil and Silas. And pria. There was always a lot of that around. John swallowed hard. This had seemed like a good idea, to go and hear for himself the intel on Rodney's whereabouts, but now that he was on his way, John was starting to have second thoughts.

"We'll be there in about five."

"So soon huh?" Licking his lips, John kept his eyes straight ahead, at the passing scenery. He vaguely remembered that it had taken about two days to get there by wagon.

"Jumpers are great for covering distance," Lorne said quietly, a small village starting to come into view on the horizon.

Huffing, John continued to watch through the window, the faint hum of the jumper in the back of his mind. It seemed like only another few seconds before they were landing, and he was following Lorne's team out the back, desperately hoping he didn't look as nervous as he felt.

Parrish fell in beside him as they walked in, the guards greeting them with a smile and nod. "It helps to breathe, sir."

"Easier said than done." John noticed quite a few people doing double takes as he walked by, and that really wasn't helping his state of mind any.

"They are friendly and our allies. They're not going to do anything."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Do you actually think we're going to let you make a fool out of yourself?" Parrish chuckled quietly. "Trust me, sir. You aren't allowed to get as much as a hangnail if you get my drift."

John forced a smile, but then they were stepping through the doors into Ashira's court, and he forgot to breathe again. He tightened his grip on his P90, fighting the urge to fall to his knees, beg, crawl to Ashira. The man was actually very handsome, a fact that John hadn't really cared about when he was chemically inclined to want him anyway. Jacquil and Silas flanked him, and he saw all three widen their eyes when they caught sight of him. Oh god, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea...

"Buck up, sir, and breathe. If you pass out, Evan will kill me," Parrish said, hand on his elbow.

Lorne had stepped forward, greeting Ashira warmly.

John allowed himself to be pushed forward, his eyes not leaving Ashira's face. He was well aware that the only thing really stopping him from throwing pride to the wind and begging to be to be touched again was Rodney. His love for his geek was stronger than his confused affection for his former master. But when he caught sight of the small bowl of pria that was always close by, John felt the familiar craving hit him again, hard. Oh god. He wanted it. Badly. He could feel his body trembling as he held himself back.

"Colonel Sheppard," Ashira said, offering a warm smile. "It is good to see you again."

Swallowing, John nodded. "Ma… Ashira. It is... it's good to see you, too."

Parrish's hand tightened on his elbow as Ashira nodded, turning back to Lorne. "It seems that the slaver has finally decided to give us the information you wanted. We have investigated his claim as far as we were able and it seems sound."

"Do you have a name? A location?" Lorne asked, gesturing for Captain Dumont to step forward, PDA in hand.

"We have a name and a planetary designation, but that is all I’m afraid."

John swayed slightly towards the dais, pulled short by Parrish. Sense memory was hitting him hard—the way those hands felt on his body, the way the pria made him feel, the taste of kisses, of skin, even the feel of the silks the slaves wore across his skin. He tried to refocus on the conversation—they knew where Rodney was.

Lorne and Dumont and Ashira were talking, but then Parrish was walking him backward, tugging him into the hallway. "Sir?"

"I need to talk to him. Not in front of the court. Just... me and him."

"No, sir. That's not allowed. We were given rather…strict orders."

"I know. But I... I need this." John pulled his arm free and started back for the door.

But Parrish caught him, tugging him back.

"I'm not going to do anything stupid. I know what's at stake here. But I need to talk to him."

"No, sir. I can't let you," Parrish tried to pull him back, force him to stay in the hallway.

John shook him off again and stepped back into the court, returning to his place beside Lorne before Parrish could catch him. It seemed like they had finished exchanging information. Good. Clearing his throat, John gathered his courage—it was still hard to speak here, in this setting, to this man, without permission. "I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time, Ashira, before we leave."

"Colonel, a word," Lorne said, his tone low and dangerous.

John kept his eyes on the startled Ashira. "I know what I'm doing, Major."

"I don't think you do, Colonel. A word."

Turning his head slightly, John dropped his voice. "I need to talk to him, Evan. I won't do anything stupid."

"You're right, because I’m not going to let you."

"Then come with me. You can make sure I don't give in and take pria or anything."

Lorne sighed, but turned to Ashira. "Can we talk in private for a moment?"

Nodding, the ruler rose and led them out the door John remembered, the one that led to the private rooms. His heart sped up, and his body, well certain parts of it, twitched against his will.

They finally reached one of the smaller rooms and John vaguely recognized it. He'd spoken to Carson here the first time. Ashira glanced between the two men. "You have…questions about how we got the information? I did not think you were concerned about our methods."

John shook his head. "Thank you for the information. We... hopefully it will let us find Rodney soon. I wanted to..." He gave in and lowered his eyes, the memories of what was proper as Jita overwhelming his sense of what was allowed as John. "Why? Why me?"

"Colonel," Lorne hissed, but Ashira answered.

"No, no, Major. It is an acceptable question. Colonel, do you really wish to know the answer?"

"Not really, but I... I think I need to. I need to know if I was just... just a fuck toy and nothing else."

Ashira sighed, his eyes sliding away from John's. His words were quiet, hushed, as if he were reminding himself. "You were a slave, bought for a purpose."

John swallowed hard, once more fighting the urge to fall to his knees. "I remember... affection. Was I imagining it?"

"No. No, you were not. You…you reminded me of another."

It shouldn't hurt—after all, he had Rodney and had no intention of leaving him. But emotions weren't always logical. "I'm sorry."

"Had I known this…purchase was not legal…" Ashira paused again. "I am sorry…but if you must know, what we shared was not false."

Unsure what to do next—his instinct to turn and flee warring with his instinct to drop and beg for forgiveness—John was never more grateful for his second in command than right then, when the other man wrapped his fingers around John's elbow and stepped in.

"We appreciate your honesty and your friendship now as we try to find the rest of the Colonel's team," Lorne said, fingers digging into Sheppard's arm. "While we would like to stay and discuss more about our ongoing relations between our peoples, we must take this information back and use it to find Doctor McKay."

John leaned slightly into Lorne, and nodded his agreement, keeping his head down. He was looking forward to getting back to Atlantis and having another mini break-down. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. Jacquil was assisting Captain Dumont, I believe, with a small crate your Doctor Beckett requested. Was there anything else you required?"

Lorne politely withdrew them after that, and John followed more or less obediently as the Major led him out of the room, lost in his own thoughts. He was feeling too many things —relief, grief, excitement that they might bring Rodney home soon, crushing guilt that he had betrayed his lover, confusion as to why he had wanted to hear Ashria say he missed John, Jita.

Carson and Kate were standing alongside Elizabeth when the jumper touched down in the bay, concern on their faces.

John pasted a smile on, not wanting to get Lorne or his team in trouble. He decided to deflect attention immediately to what was, after all, the more important result of the field trip. "Ashira got a name and gate address. I'll let Lorne brief you. We might be bringing McKay home soon."

Elizabeth nodded, turning her attention to Lorne while Carson and Kate latched onto him, walking out with him. They were silent, but John knew they weren't going to let him go hide in a corner either.

Fuck. Okay, so Plan A, politely ask Atlantis to hide his life sign and go find a corner to curl up in for a little while was out the door. Time for Plan B—deflection. "Hey guys, I need to go divest myself of my gear. Can the post-mission wait for a few minutes?"

"This is'na a post-mission," Carson said quietly.

Oh fuck. There was no way they could know what happened, and Lorne hadn't briefed Elizabeth yet. "I'm fine. As you can see, I am still very much pria-free. So, ah..."

"And you look like you lost your dog and cat and pet goldfish all at once," Kate said with a smile as they led him down the hall to his quarters.

He shook his head, making a half-hearted attempt to pull free, but both of them tightened their grips on his arms. "I'm fine."

"Nae, you're not," Carson said, Sheppard's quarters already in sight. How'd they get here this fast? "We were honestly hoping for a different reaction, but we'll help you sort through this."

He was pushed through the door—and fuck, where did the two of them learn to strip battle gear off a man so fast? "Look, nothing happened okay? It was…we got the intel on Rodney, and Lorne is going to follow up. Maybe you can clear me to go on that mission, too?"

"We know you better than that, John. What did you talk to Ashira about?"

"What makes you think I talked to him?" No, he couldn't do this. He knew he was about a half-minute from a breakdown again, and this time he'd like to try it in private.

Both Carson and Kate looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

He really hated that he seemed to have lost the ability to hide his emotions. He was looking forward to getting that back. "Okay, so I did. Look, it wasn't a big deal. We just... We already knew I was nothing more than a pretty fuck toy, he just... confirmed it. So nothing I didn't already know..."

"Why does it bother you?" Carson was settling him on the bed, tugging off his boots while Kate asked the question.

Giving in, John relaxed back into the mattress. Individually these two were hard to put off. Together it was like they had super powers or something. "It shouldn't."

"But why does it?" One boot was off.

He curled his hands into tight fists. "Because it makes me nothing more than a fucking whore. At least... at least when I remembered affection, I could tell myself... it wasn't just convenient, it was me, it was... but..."

"So the drugs had absolutely nothing to do with it." Boot two was now somewhere with boot one on the other side of the room.

He glared at Carson. "Yes, I know that. But... I remember... Look, I really don't know what I'm feeling right now, honestly. I'm pissed off about the whole thing, I'm... hurt... because I wanted it to be because he at least liked me a little, I'm anxious because I already know you aren't going to clear me for Rodney's rescue mission which means I'm stuck here waiting..."

"Did he say that he didn't like you?" Kate asked, drawing his attention to her as Carson ducked into the bathroom for a moment.

"Does it matter?" John laid back on the bed so he could stare at the ceiling.

"To you it does, so, yes."

"I reminded him of someone else."

"Someone who made a very…intense impression on him."

"But I was still just a slave, a toy to be used and thrown away later. I knew that already, but... I guess I didn't want to believe it. And it doesn't fucking help that right now I'm frustrated as hell. I went from a month of almost constant... release to absolutely nothing at all. And then to see him again, to remember..."

Kate's mouth twisted slightly as Carson stepped out of the bathroom, standing near the door. "I understand, John. I do. Unfortunately, neither Carson or I would be best to help you with that."

He made a noise of frustration, but he knew they were right, and agreed with them. It didn't change the fact that he was incredibly turned on right now with no way to let it out.

"Did you want something to settle you down?" Carson asked quietly. "I can give you something if you want."

John shook his head and sighed. "No. I'll be all right. I just wanted to believe on some level that it was more than just my looks. I've been chased for my face all my life, this was just a more extreme version. I never liked it, but now... I'll be all right. I need to get back upstairs. I want to hear what Lorne and Elizabeth decided to do."

"Just rest, John. Let them take care of things."

"This is Rodney we're talking about. He might need me, he will need me. God, if they don't find him in good condition..."

"John," Kate said, her hand on his arm. "Let them do their jobs."

"Protecting Rodney is my job."

"Right now you need to get better so you can help when they bring him home."

Despite himself, John felt his body uncurling, relaxing as they both touched him. Damn ingrained responses. It did feel good though, and at least he knew they were doing it because they cared. "I miss him so much."

"Aye. We all do."

"I need to be there when they bring him home. Please. I know you won't let me go on the mission, but don't keep me in the dark."

"You'll be waiting for him right next to us," Kate said, rubbing her hand on his arm. "Rest now."

With another sigh, he relaxed further, the adrenaline rushes and emotional turmoil catching up with him. "Don't leave me alone."

"I can sit with him, Kate," Carson said quietly. "I know you have a two o'clock."

He listened to them work out the schedules as he closed his eyes, letting his body fall into a half-asleep mode. He was going to be okay, eventually. If they could just bring Rodney home now, everything would be all right.

***

Major Evan Lorne moved almost silently through the dense underbrush of the forest, all his attention focused on his surroundings. Behind him was David, moving just as silently, and then the two others on his team—Dumont and Jenkins—keeping an eye on their six.

At a faint noise, Evan froze, fist going up to signal for the team to halt and be silent. The noise came again, and he shifted slightly to see a single man, a guard by the look of him, standing there with a slightly bored expression on his face. A quick check of the LSD showed there was no one else around, so with a few quick hand signals, the team fanned out, taking the guard prisoner before he had the slightest idea they were there.

"Jenkins, keep watch in case anyone else shows up. Dumont, keep a weapon on him at all times. He tries anything funny, kill him." Evan gave the man a cold look. "Now, you're going to answer a few questions for us."

"I don't think so," he said, tone arrogant, defiant.

All his anger, frustration and worry over the past weeks bubbled up. Evan was in no mood to play nice anymore. He punched the other man hard in the stomach. "Oh, I do think so. Who are you working for?"

The guard coughed, but shot back a haughty smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Pulling out his handgun, Evan pressed the barrel right between the man's eyes. "If you aren't going to give me useful information, then I guess I just have to kill you."

"Go ahead."

He cocked the weapon. He was tired of playing nice. They didn't need the information, it would just make it easier. If there was a guard here, then they could scout the area and find whatever he was protecting fairly easily.

"You're Lanteans aren't you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He was starting to pull the trigger when David put a hand on his arm. "Not now, Parrish."

The guard, their prisoner, laughed. "Weak. All of you."

Altering the angle of the weapon, Evan shot, the bullet cutting cleanly through the man's thigh. "I can keep going. How many limbs do you think I can permanently damage before you bleed out?"

The guard was curled over as far as Jenkin's hold would allow. "Bastard," he finally grit out.

Evan took aim at his other leg. "Who do you work for?"

The man lifted his head, his gaze pain-filled and defiant. "Kill me and you'll never find him."

Evan narrowed his eyes. "Well, see, you just gave me something useful. I didn't mention that we were looking for anyone. But thanks for confirming that for us. That will spare your leg for another question. Where is he?"

"Safe."

Evan shot again, this time into the other leg. He was being careful with his aim, not hitting any arteries and avoiding the bones. He didn't want the fucker to die yet, but those would hurt like hell. "Try again."

Unable to stand, Jenkins let the guard slide to the ground, curling around his wounds.

Crouching, Evan took on an almost genial tone. "Look, friend. If you don't answer my questions, you're going to die here. You can play the 'you'll never find him if you kill me' card, but if you aren't giving me information anyway, then there really is no point in letting you live."

"We both know you're going to kill me."

"If you tell me what I want to know, I give you my word I won't. I won't let you go, but I won't kill you either."

The guard snorted. "I'm a dead man either way. Why should I help you?"

"Because you aren't dead if you help me. I'll send you back to my people who will treat those wounds. And if you're cooperative, we'll be more inclined to work something out about your release later."

"They'll never let me go home if I help you."

"So we find you somewhere else to go. You didn't look like you were enjoying what you were doing anyway."

"I swore to fight and die for my people," he guard said finally.

"But did that include taking innocent men hostage? I bet when you made that oath, you thought you would be fighting against the 'bad guys', people who were out to harm your family, your friends. Not standing in the middle of nowhere helping prevent a man who never did anything to hurt you from going home."

"I do what I’m told. Just like you."

"I question orders if I don't agree or don't understand them."

"Aren't you the independent thinker."

Lorne straightened. "Look, I'm running out of time. So you can either give me a reason to save your life or give me a reason to kill you. Choose now."

The guard looked at him hard before laughing bitterly. "You certainly are."

"What do you mean?" Evan narrowed his eyes at the man.

"He's coming back with a battalion of men. He's due any minute now." He guard shifted on the ground, his eyes cold. "He could always use more prisoners. Gives him more leverage."

Evan went cold. "Who is? Who do you work for?"

The man's smile turned predatory. "I need guarantees before I answer any more questions."

Evan stared at him for a long time before holstering his gun. "Dumont, call home and have Weir send another team for pickup and backup. If this gentleman gives us useful information, we'll send him back with them."

The soldier didn't hesitate, heading at a run for the cloaked jumper. They all felt the tension, knew that this was critical. If they screwed this up and Rodney was close, Sheppard would kill them all personally.

"All right, talk. Give me something useful and you'll get medical care. Continue to be stubborn and those extra men will just be back-up for me."

"I want a guarantee that I won't be killed, that I'll be given freedom once I'm treated."

"I can guarantee you won't be killed, and that we'll negotiate with you as to where you'll be sent afterwards. Our leader will make that final determination, but the more useful you are now, the more generous she'll be."

The guard nodded slowly. "I heard you returned Sora, that you kept your word."

Evan sucked in a breath and heard David do the same. "You're Genii. Fuck, this is a Genii installation." He closed his eyes briefly. "Yes, we returned Sora to your people, unharmed. We don't make promises lightly, but we keep them when we do."

"Kolya is returning with one of his larger groups of soldiers tonight," the man finally said quietly. "He plans to fully staff and secure this base."

"Fuck." Evan quickly relayed that information to Dumont, to send back to Weir. "All right, we need to move now to get McKay out of here. How do we get in? Where is he being held? How many men are in the base now?"

"There is an entrance not far from here, just off the main trail. McKay is several levels down. He'll either be in his cell or the labs. I haven't been on prisoner guard duty in a few weeks, so I don't know what time of day it is for him. Kolya made sure it was changed regularly."

Evan sent Jenkins to hunt for the entrance, after checking the LSD again to make sure there weren't any surprises. "Why was he changing the time of day for McKay? What was the point?"

"Screwed with his head."

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck this was so not good. "Why? What did he want from McKay? How badly did he mess with him?"

"Everything that McKay experienced was carefully planned and executed to make sure Kolya got everything he wanted. If one thing didn't work, he tried something else. He didn't care. He just wanted results."

"And he's had six weeks. Fuck." Sheppard is going to hit the roof. Evan sighed. "Anything else I should know? Your ride should be here soon, and you'll need to get those wounds looked at ASAP."

"Kolya got what he wanted."

"Which was?"

"Everything."

"That doesn't tell me much. What was he looking for? Weapons? Knowledge of the Ancients?"

The man leaned forward, hissing as he shifted his bloody wounded legs. "Kolya took whatever he wanted, whatever would help him with his own plans. He wouldn't be moving his forces here if he hadn't."

Lorne's radio chose that moment to click, Dumont's quiet voice in his ear letting him know that Atlantis had just sent through an all-Marine backup and they would be rendezvousing in less than five minutes.

"Right. Okay. Jenkins, do you have an entry point for me yet?" It was time to get this show on the road and extract McKay before it became impossible.

"Maybe," came the quiet reply.

"That's not an answer Jenkins. I need a yes or a no."

"You try looking for a hidden hatch to an underground bunker at dusk…sir."

"We're on a bit of a time crunch here. We have, at best guess, a few hours before Kolya arrives with a lot more men than we want to take on alone. So I need an entry point and I need it now."

"I…hold, sir," Jenkins said, clicking off, returning a few seconds later. "Entry point located. Almost tripped over the damn thing."

"Hold your position, and we'll join you in a moment." Evan turned back to the guard, who was watching him warily. "In a few minutes I'm going to send you for treatment with my men. Along the way, give them anything else you can think of, no matter how trivial it seems. I've read the mission reports, so I'm guessing McKay is bad, and we'll need that information to fix him."

"If you can."

Lorne gave him a hard look. "We don't abandon our people. Period. We will bring him home, and we will do everything in our power to help him recover."

David's hand on his shoulder briefly pulled his attention away from the Genii soldier. "Dumont's a minute out."

Evan pulled a pressure bandage out of a pock on his tac vest and handed it over. "See what you can do to get those wounds stable to move him into the jumper once it arrives."

"I'm going with you."

Evan had a short debate with himself, weighing the pros and cons of sending David back. Finally he nodded. "You're a member of my team."

The clearing swarmed with people a moment later—Major Billick along with Captains Hansen, Coughlin, and Dumont and Lieutenant Miller. Billick was already ordering the prisoner secured and sending Coughlin and Miller with Lorne.

Lorne grabbed the Marine who was reaching for the Genii guard. "He needs medical treatment and has traded information for amnesty and sanctuary. If you god damned break my word to him, I will beat the shit out of you later, do you understand? Billick, I have five minutes to brief you and then I'm taking my team in to secure McKay."

"Dumont already did on our way in. Coughlin and Miller are yours. We'll be at the jumpers if you require additional backup. Weir was getting two other teams on standby," Billick said, nodding to his man to do as Lorne ordered.

"Perfect. Jenkins found our entry point—I want your guys to hold it and make sure there aren't any surprises on the way back out. The base is reportedly understaffed right now, but that's gonna change soon. I want to be clear of the area before that happens."

"Agreed," Billick said with a sharp nod. "Let's bring Doctor McKay home."

Lorne checked to make sure their guard was being treated for transport before grabbing his team and moving to Jenkins' position. "All right, radio silence unless it's an emergency. With a little luck this is in and out—our objective is to find McKay and bring him home. Everything else is secondary."

After receiving nods all around, they entered the facility. Two guards near the entrance went down quickly and easily without raising any alarm. A quick look at the hand scanner showed this section clear, but some readings several levels below them. They needed a way to get down there.

With quick hand gestures, his team fanned out, clearing each doorway, each room, as they moved. They managed to find two sets of stairs, and took out only four more guards by the time they got to the third level. But still no sign of McKay.

It was getting frustrating.

Empty room after empty room after empty room and the stupid scanner kept giving them strange readings every now and then. The walls or some of the technology had to be screwing with it.

They had almost finished with the current level with a quiet gasp from David drew his attention. He moved to the botanist's side. "What do you have?"

Lorne had only stuck his head into the empty lab, but Parrish had stepped inside. "We have to take these," he said, holding up a ragged notebook.

"We don't have time—"

"We have to. You don't understand. These are McKay's notes. I recognize his scribble."

"That just proves he's here. We need to keep searching."

"And you want to leave the Genii with notes on…god only knows what? I don't recognize half the equations, but it's all technical, mathematical. Do you want to take the chance that it's not a step-by-step guide on how to build your next weapon of mass destruction?"

"Fuck. All right, grab as many as you can find in five minutes. That's all I can spare you, and no matter what, getting McKay is our top priority here."

David nodded, immediately rummaging through the crap in the lab, turning drawers and cabinets inside out. By the time his five minutes were up, he'd found four notebooks, several sets of blueprints and schematics for some kind of weapon, and lots of lists. Parrish's face was pale, but determined.

"Parrish." Evan gestured from where he was keeping watch at the door. Jenkins and Dumont had found the stairs down to the next level. "We have to go. We're running out of time here."

"I know," he whispered as he stuffed everything into his pack.

Once David had returned his pack to his back, they moved out again, clearing two more levels and five more guards, and Evan was starting to worry. They had to start back for the surface soon. They could not be here when Kolya returned with superior numbers.

"Where are they holding him?" Parrish whispered as he looked into another room.

"I don't know. And the LSD is completely useless now. Fuck. One more level, and then we're not going to have a choice, we're going to have to start back up."

"Was there anything else on the lab level?" Parrish asked. "This area doesn't look like it's seen people recently."

"No. We've cleared every level before moving on."

"Then we had to have missed something. This doesn't feel right, Evan."

Lorne raked his hands through his hair. "We'll clear this level and the next, and then we'll do a quick double-check on the way back up. Move out, we have to find him now."

They had to find him now. They were quickly running out of time.

***

Rodney woke slowly, stretching his hands above his head as he arched his back. He worked late into the night last night, hunched over the small table in his room with the single light giving him just enough to see by. He had to finish those last few equations and let them simmer in his head before he started again today.

But today, Kolya was coming home. He was looking forward to it. Rodney wanted to show him his progress. He'd made a lot over the past few days.

The guards had given him a small basin to freshen up in the morning since he was getting up early and he used it quickly—along with the small chamber pot. He hated it, but it served its purpose. It was certainly better than the alternative.

Somewhere a few hours after he'd woken, he heard a loud sound, a sharp pop, and then a thud and he stared at the door, his eyes open wide. He could feel his heart beating, picking up speed.

What was happening?

He froze, his hand hovering over his notebook, barely breathing as he listened, heard the key in the lock, felt the panic rising.

Nononono. This was different. This was wrong. He needed Kolya. Wanted him. He would protect him, save him.

The door pushed open and the man standing the doorway stared at him blankly for a moment before his face stretched into a blinding smile. "Doctor McKay. Oh, thank God we finally found you."

No. Nononono. Not Kolya. He shoved his chair back and stood, his body trembling, pencil still clutched within his grip.

The man blinked slowly, then put his hands up where Rodney could see them. "Doctor McKay? It's Evan Lorne. From Atlantis. We've been searching for you since you went missing. We're here to take you home."

Rodney shook his head. No. Couldn't be. He was home. He didn't understand. But a brief memory of Atlantis flooded his mind and his breath caught in his throat. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

"It's okay, sir. We found Colonel Sheppard a few weeks ago, and he's really anxious to see you again. So whenever you're ready, we can take you home."

He felt a light touch on his arm and he jerked away, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. He couldn't catch himself in time so he ended up on the floor a moment later, landing on his ass as the plug settled in deeper for a moment.

No.

They were lying. Kolya had Sheppard. Still had him. They were trying to trick him. The guards were doing this when Kolya was gone. They were going to do something to him.

The man—Lorne—took a step back and dropped down, balancing on his heels. "I know you've been held by Kolya. We caught a guard on the surface who said that fucking bastard was messing with your head. I don't know what he's told you. But I can tell you that you have been here for six weeks. In the meantime. Ronon was the first to escape from his owners and alerted us to what happened. We found Teyla next and brought her home, and then Sheppard a few weeks later. They are all safe and sound on Atlantis, and if you come with me now you can see them."

"No," he whispered, fear pooling in his belly. "Koyla has him. Have to keep him safe."

Lorne shook his head. "Kolya never had Sheppard. He was owned by a man named Ashira, and he's back in Atlantis safe and sound and anxious to have you home with him."

"No…can't…I have to finish…"

"Doctor McKay, I understand you are really confused right now, and I promise we'll explain everything later. But right now we're running out of time and I need to get you out of here. Please, sir, I need you to come with me."

Rodney nodded, hearing the order and obeying instinctively, immediately, even though he was shaking and trembling.

"It will all be okay, sir. I promise. Parrish, do you have an extra jacket or blanket in that pack?"

The other man—Parrish…the first name of David popping into Rodney's head—shook his head. "No, nothing."

"Can I have yours then? I don't want to take the time to find something here. We can get him a blanket once we get to the jumper."

It took a minute for Lorne's request to process, but Rodney was shaking his head. "No…not allowed."

"You're not allowed to be dressed? Was that an order from Kolya?" Anger flashed across Lorne's face. "Sir, you are very much allowed to wear whatever you want. Why don't we start walking while Parrish gets his off for you?"

"No, please," Rodney said, shaking his head, body trembling harder. This was wrong. He shouldn't be doing this.

"How about that blanket?" Lorne pointed at the bed. "Can you wrap that around you? It's cool outside and I don't want to explain to Doctor Beckett how I got you sick."

"I…I don't know." This was just a little too much, his arms wrapping around his body. He kept getting flashes of memory—faces, people, places. He knew these men. He used to trust them, or he thought he did.

The other one—David—stepped forward, resting just the tips of his fingers against Rodney's arm. "It's okay, Rodney. We're your friends. We're here to help you, and Major Lorne just wants to keep you safe." He picked up the blanket and wrapped it around Rodney's shoulders. "There we go. See, no harm done. Why don't you stay with me, while the nice soldiers clear the way for us?"

Rodney ducked his head, shifting away from David even as he pulled the blanket closer to his body. No one was supposed to touch him. Only Kolya.

David and Lorne exchanged a glance, Lorne's shoulders sagging a bit. "Great, we bring one home who needs to be touched almost constantly, and then we find the other who doesn't want to be touched at all. All right, McKay, stay with Parrish. The two of you will be behind me, with Jenkins and Dumont bringing up the rear. It's time to go home."

Confused and scared, Rodney nodded, managing to keep pace with Parrish—David. He wanted to know where he was being taken, but he couldn't ask, wouldn't ask. He didn't want to do anything to make them angry. He just wanted to go back to bed and start this day all over again.

They moved up through the levels of the base, and David stayed right with him, occasionally whispering encouraging words. They halted at one point, Lorne and one of the other two men with him slipping ahead. David smiled at Rodney.

"They're going to make sure everything is all clear, and then we're going to go out and board the jumper. There are a lot of people in Atlantis who have missed you, Colonel Sheppard being at the top of the list."

"Have to find Sheppard. If I'm not here they're going to hurt him," Rodney whispered, looking at David with wide desperate eyes.

David nodded. "I promise he's going to be waiting for you as soon as we get to Atlantis. Safe and sound, and you can see for yourself."

Rodney shook his head, unable to believe. Parrish gestured for him to move forward a moment later and then Rodney was outside, his eyes scanning the area, surprised it was dark. Was there a storm? Some strange phenomenon? He'd just gotten up.

"Rodney? Are you okay?" David was leading him slowly through some underbrush, kicking aside a few sharp rocks.

"Want to go back. Was safe there."

David's smile was a little sad. "I know it felt that way, but please believe me, you weren't safe there at all. They just wanted you to believe that. And if you stayed there, you wouldn't get to see Sheppard again. You don't want that, do you?"

John. He wanted John. And Kolya. And… He pulled the blanket around him tighter, shivering a little.

"It's going to be okay," David said quietly. "Ah, here we are. Do you remember the jumpers?"

Yes. John flew them. He nodded as he stepped inside, half expecting to see him sitting at the chair on the left all the way in the front.

David steered him to sit on one of the benches, but he must have caught Rodney's glances to the cockpit. "Colonel Sheppard is waiting for you at home. We'll make sure he's there as soon as we land."

He sat where he was told, trying to ignore the looks he felt. He just wanted to go back to his room, but it wasn't allowed anymore. They were taking him away. He whimpered slightly as he felt the jumper rise, trying to hold back his panic.

"We'll be home soon. I promise. Just hang in there for me, okay? We'll have you in Doctor Beckett's hands very shortly. Do you remember Carson? He's one of your close friends."

Carson. It took a minute to drag the memory forward. He remembered Carson. "Likes sheep."

David chuckled. "Exactly. You always give him a hard time about that. He's anxious to see you too, and he's going to bring you to the infirmary for an exam."

"Not sick."

"I know. But we always go see him after missions, remember? Think of this like that, like a post-mission physical."  
  
"We'll be arriving in Atlantis in one minute." Lorne had moved to fly the jumper, and he glanced back as he gave them the update.

Rodney just nodded. It was easier to agree.

They went through the gate and rose up, a moment later the back hatch opening. Another man—Carson?—was waiting for him, along with a woman in a red sweater.

It took a few seconds, but memories returned—Carson and Elizabeth. He knew them. The man…Carson approached him slowly.

His eyes were damp. "Rodney? Ach lad we did'na think we'd ever see you again. It's good to see your face again my friend."

"Carson?" Rodney whispered the name, felt his body trembling as things started sliding into place. Smells, sights, sounds, the pressure in his head… He tugged the blankets closer to him realizing he was very naked.

"Aye, lad. I have a gurney out here. Why don't you come out and hop on up and we'll bring you to the infirmary. I have someone there waiting to see you, and he's gettin' a bit impatient."

Rodney shook his head and closed his eyes, everything too much. He wanted to go back to his room. It was quiet and safe and not confusing.

A hand touched his arm gently, a barely-there feeling. "You look very overwhelmed, and I'm sorry about that, lad. But we have a private room all ready for you, with no prying eyes. If you'll hang in there just a little longer, we'll get you squared away."

He jumped at the touch but didn't move. No order, no suggestion, no request. He didn't have to do anything.

The others in the jumper had cleared out—it was just him and Carson, although he could hear Lorne and David talking to Elizabeth outside—something about strike teams and Marines and immediate deployment. It made no sense to him, though. The other man dropped to his knees in front of Rodney, his expression concerned. "Rodney? Talk to me, lad. Tell me what I can do to help you get through this? Do you remember John? He's waiting for you in the room we set aside for you."

"Want to go back to my room," Rodney finally whispered, feeling his emotions slowly growing out of control.

"We'll let you go back to your own room in a few days. I need to bring you to the infirmary first though."

"Doc?" The word was quiet. Rodney recognized it as David.

"I think we may need to bring John down," Carson said quietly. "I had wanted to give them a little privacy, but I dinna want to make this harder for Rodney than it needs to be."

"Try an order. He seemed to follow direction okay."

"I hate to have to do that but... Rodney, lad, go on out and hop up on the gurney for me."

Rodney hesitated for a moment, but he moved, trying to keep the blanket around his body as he climbed on the gurney.

Carson settled it a little better, making sure everything was covered. "Good, lad. There we go. Now let's get you moved, shall we?" He began to push the gurney through the halls that were surprisingly empty.

Rodney simply watched the ceiling as it whizzed by overhead, trying to put his memories and emotions and everything back together.

A gasp brought his attention back. "R...Rodney. Oh god, Rodney, is it really you?" John. It was John.

As soon as the bed stopped moving, Rodney sat up looking around, his eyes finally finding John. His trembling started anew, a whimper in his throat. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

John closed the distance between them, his eyes wide. "Oh, Rodney..." He reached out, tracing a single finger along Rodney's jaw line. "Missed you so fucking much..."

Rodney flinched at the touch, his body acting instinctively even as his hands were reaching out to touch John. He had to make sure he was real. He'd dreamt of him so many times…

John just stepped closer. "Need to taste you. Please tell me you aren't going to freak out if I kiss you. I need you, oh god Rodney I need you so much..."

He was warm and solid and real.

Oh god.

Real.

Oh god.

And here.

Rodney knew he was shaking, entire body trembling.

John's breath whispered across his skin. "I'm here, buddy. I don't know what you went through, and I'm sure it was bad, but I'm here now." Lips brushed against his, light enough to give him the option to pull back, but John was standing close enough that Rodney could feel he was shaking too. "Rodney..."

"Please…" Rodney whispered, begging, needing this to be real and not a dream. He could feel the dampness on his face.

That was all John needed. His tongue traced the edges of Rodney's lips before he dove in, claiming. He pulled their bodies together, his hands slipping under the blanket to touch skin.

Oh god. This was John, his John. Safe. Rodney knew he whimpered again, feeling his fear and doubt and shame rise up from within. He broke free from John's lips, pressing his face to his chest as he felt the first sob break free.

John just wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. "It's okay, Rodney. You're safe now. I'm safe. Teyla and Ronon are both home safe. You're home."

Rodney simply hung onto John, his body shaking, everything finally too much.

He felt John push his nose into Rodney's hair, his breath hot, comforting. "M'not going anywhere. Not going to let you go, missed you so much..."

By the time his sobs trailed off, Rodney was spent, completely exhausted, only upright because John was holding onto him.

Whispering in Rodney's ear, John was still trying to mold them together. "We need to get you moved to a bed. I'm staying here with you. All night, want to hold you, sleep with you in my arms. We can deal with briefings and stories tomorrow."

Rodney just sniffled, his eyes tightly shut. Maybe everything else would just go away.

"I need to do a brief exam, lads. John, if you want to stay and Rodney does'na mind, you can."  
  
John pushed closer to Rodney. "Yes. Please, I don't... I need to be touching him."

Rodney didn't protest when John shifted him, laying him down on the gurney as he wiped the back of his hands over his face, knowing it was red and swollen and splotchy.

Smiling, Sheppard, pressed kisses all over his face. "So beautiful... Let Carson examine you, okay? Then we can get back to the reunion and kissing part."

Rodney nodded, trying not to tense as Carson pulled the blanket away from his body, exposing everything.

John's eyes swept him, fingers tracing first the cuffs, then the nipple rings, moving down towards the cage. "Oh, Rodney... God, I'm so sorry... Carson, get them off him. Now. Get it off him..."

Rodney tensed at the sound of anger in John's voice, cringing. He didn't want to make him angry. Angry meant a beating and he didn't want to hurt...

John's eyes flicked back to his face and softened. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not angry at you, okay? You're mine, and I don't like that someone else put this stuff on you." He touched pale skin where his mark had always sat, long since faded. Then he traced a finger down to a nipple ring again. "Although these I like. I always knew you would look hot with rings."

"John. I need keys for everything," Carson said quietly.

"And we don't have them." He sighed softly. "I want them off him. What do we need to do to get through the locks without hurting him?"

"We need tools. Can you ask Radek if he has something we can use? And I need you to give me a few minutes to give Rodney his exam."

Because he was watching, Rodney saw several emotions flicker across John's face, including almost desperation. His free hand, which had tangled with Rodney's, squeezed. "No... Don't make me leave. Please, Carson..."

"Five minutes, John, then you can have him all night. Please."

John closed his eyes, and Rodney could feel the faint tremors running through his body where they were touching. "O…okay. Rodney, I'll be right back, okay? I promise, I'm not going far." He recaptured Rodney's mouth for a brief, deep kiss.

Rodney nodded, not understanding, but he was used to that.

"Radek, John. Call him," Carson reminded as John reluctantly walked to the door.

Sheppard licked his lips, his eyes never leaving Rodney's face as he nodded. "Five minutes. I'll be back then."

"Aye," Carson said, smiling gently at Rodney.

The doctor began to do a quick examination, being careful not to touch any more than was absolutely necessary. "Other than what I can see, is there anything else you want to tell me about? Anything else that needs to come off, or was done to you? Do you know if you were drugged at all?"

Rodney nodded.

"Yes there's more that needs to be removed, or yes they drugged you?"

"Both."

"All right, let's start with the first then. Go through everything on you that needs to come off besides the obvious."

Besides the obvious. So, what Carson couldn't see. He nodded. "Plug. I…I can do it."

"Plug... Oh." Carson blushed faintly. "Actually, this is a good time to let you put some scrubs on as well. Can you make it to the restroom on your own? You can remove it there and find clothing in the cabinet."

Rodney nodded, sitting up when Carson gestured for him to.

"All right, lad, I'll be right here waiting for you. We will need to do a full exam and blood work, but we can take care of that tomorrow. Right now I want to focus on removing the... jewelry... and take a quick blood sample to get the labs analyzing it for the drug you were given. Go ahead and get the plug out and get changed."

Rodney stood still for a moment, trying to remember where to go. It was all so familiar, but… "Where?" he finally asked, feeling his face flushing a little.

Carson smiled and pointed at a door off to the side of the room. "Straight through there. Dinna worry, lad. It took John three days before he really recognized anyone, much less started remembering where things were. You're doing just fine."

Rodney nodded, slowly padding over to the door Carson pointed to. It opened into a small bathroom. He quickly took care of business, leaving the plug on the side of the sink after he'd cleaned it off. He quickly washed himself with a small towel and dried off. Carson had mentioned something about clothes, but he wasn't allowed to wear clothes…

He tugged two things from the closet and moved back into the room. The gurney was gone and Carson was doing something to one of the machines.

Looking over, the doctor raised an eyebrow. "Rodney? You can put the scrubs on, lad. When was the last time you were given clothing to wear?" He came over, taking the fabric from him and shaking them out. Very gently, he put them on Rodney's body, dressing him.

The cloth against his body felt odd, rubbing in all of the wrong places, chafing against skin. "Why?"

"I'm curious. I want to know so I know what you went through, so I can help you get better later." Carson steered him to the bed, helping him jump up.

"No," he said quietly, shaking his head. He didn't like questioning Carson. He shouldn't question him. "Why are you being so nice? I…I didn't do anything."

He saw the surprise that was quickly hidden. "You're my friend, and we've missed you terribly. You don't have to do anything except be here."

Rodney fell silent again. He had to earn clothes. Showing up didn't mean anything. He had to work.

Carson took a little of his blood, then encouraged him to lie back on the bed. "Now, I know John is practically ready to beat the door down to get back in here with you. Are you ready to see him again?"

"And…I was only allowed clothes a few days," he whispered, finally answering the question from before.

Carson sighed. "I know you're right confused right now, and you don't know which end is up, do you? But if you're willing to trust me, to trust John, I promise we'll get you sorted out. Okay?"

Rodney nodded, eyes watching his fingers as they slowly ran over the edge of the scrub top.

"I'm going to go get John, and probably Radek—we'll see if we can't get rid of those cuffs and the other locks, all right?"

He nodded again. He didn't understand why Carson was asking him for his permission.

Patting his leg, the doctor moved to the door, opening it. John—oh god it was really John—was across the room in what looked like four steps, and was climbing into the bed with Rodney, touching him all over. He sat on the edge of the bed, touching softly with a single finger. "Rodney..."

He felt the prickle of tears in his eyes again and whimpered, but managed to hold them back this time.

John slowly drew Rodney into his arms, watching for any signs of distress, ignoring Carson's huffing of his name. "Real… you’re really here." He lifted his head, his own eyes damp. "Are you okay? I mean, I know there will be issues to deal with, but... did anyone hurt you?"

"I…I'm okay now," Rodney said quietly, his eyes flittering away. Of course he remembered the beatings, the pain of the whip on his back. That was something he wouldn't forget.

John's hand cupped his face gently. The familiar pull of a thumb caressing just the right spot. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have prevented it, kept you safe. But you're home now."

"John, did you get the tools from Radek?" Carson asked.

"He's bringing them." John didn't take his eyes off Rodney's face, and he leaned in, pressing a single, soft kiss to Rodney's jaw.

Rodney closed his eyes, moaning quietly, turning his head slightly.

John complied, nibbling at Rodney's bottom lip playfully, carefully, before slipping his tongue inside. He kissed slowly, taking the time to re-map the inside of Rodney's mouth.

Oh god. This was how he remembered, how it was supposed to taste, to feel.

Sucking lightly, John drew Rodney's tongue into his own mouth, inviting him to explore too. Warm hands were caressing him with barely-there touches, up his arms, across his shoulders.

Rodney whimpered, trying to pull back a little, but he was trapped between the bed and John. He didn't deserve this. He hadn't done anything to deserve this.

Breaking the kiss, John didn't move very far, his breath ghosting across Rodney's lips. "You taste so much better than I remembered, than I dreamed."

"John," Carson's voice was quiet. "Radek stopped with the tool you asked him for. I need a little room to work."

John moaned softly, moving away slightly, but not going far. "I’m staying while you do it. Just point at what you need free, and I’ll get out of the way."

"I have to get to…" Carson's voice trailed off.

John arranging himself so he was away from where Carson had pointed, but still close enough that Rodney could feel the heat coming off his body. "How's this?"

"I should have enough room," he replied quietly. The next second Rodney felt a hand resting against his arm and he opened his eyes, meeting Carson's for the barest second before they slid away.

John cupped Rodney's face, turning it so they were staring into each other's eyes. "Just focus on me for a minute. Hold still and let Carson cut the locks away."

Rodney whimpered, but nodded, his eyes focused on the face he didn't think he'd ever see again.

The whine of metal being cut, the smell of it, the heat near his most sensitive parts, made the panic start to come back. But John didn't let go, didn't let him break eye contact.

Carson was done in a few seconds and John moved, making a soft, unhappy noise at the raw state of some of the skin. His hand twitched, like he wanted to touch. "How long were you wearing it?"

Rodney whimpered, not used to the sensation of being free. It took him a few moments before he could answer. "Since…since the beginning."

John's hand twitched again. "When you’re ready, when you’ve had a chance to recover and you… I’ll kiss it better for you."

"Few more locks, John," Carson said, his hands on the cloth by Rodney's ankles.

"I know." John smiled softly at Rodney. "I’ll kiss all those places better later too. Have you had the cuffs on the whole time, as well? And you're still wearing my collar—at least they didn't take that away. Even somewhere else, you were still mine."

"They…they're part of me," Rodney said, remembering Kolya's words, his touch on his skin.

John shook his head. "No they aren't. They're a symbol of power. Someone else forced them on you to strip you of your power. I much prefer our way, when you give yourself to me because you trust me, not because you have no choice."

The sound was back—the high-pitched squeal—it made him cringe, but Carson moved quickly. The two locks on the ankle cuffs were gone and John moved. He tugged the scrubs back into place around Rodney's waist, and turned his attention to his ankles. His fingers were gentle as he took off the cuffs, rubbing the skin underneath—slightly gritty and dirty from where Rodney couldn't reach to clean—indented slightly from the continual wear.

Carson had already shifted to the head of the bed, positioning Rodney's arm so he could work. First one lock, and then the second was gone. Carson was eyeing his collar a beat later.

John looked up, catching the doctor's eye. "If there's any way to get the lock off the collar without damaging the metal, do it."

"I’m going to need him to turn over," Carson said with a nod. "Rodney, lad, can you shift so I can get the last lock off?"

John released his ankles, moving around to the head of the bed. He urged Rodney to give him both hands, pulling them up where he could bestow the same slow rubbing he had given to Rodney’s ankles to his wrists as Carson worked on the collar's lock.

But through it all, Rodney didn't understand why they were doing this. He belonged to Acastus Kolya. This was going to make him angry.

When the last lock was gone and Rodney had turned back over, John sat back on the edge of the bed. He reached out, almost hesitant, waiting to see if Rodney would rebuff the resumption of the light touches. "What are you thinking right now?"

"Confused," he whispered.

"I can imagine. From what little I was told... someone went to a lot of trouble to mess with your head, make you believe what they wanted you to."

There wasn't a question in there. He didn't have to respond, say anything.

John sighed softly before leaning in to kiss him again lightly. "I want to touch you, relearn all of you. But I don't know if that will...if it will bring back... bad memories. Will you let me?"

"You…but…why are you asking?"

John licked his lips. "Because I don't want to risk scaring you, hurting you, but I also miss you, miss holding you."

"But…" Rodney was so confused.

John swallowed. "I've been home for about two weeks. They found me addicted to a... a pleasure... drug. I'm better—a lot better—but... if it’s okay, I’d like to touch you. Please?"

Rodney just nodded. He still didn't understand why he deserved all of this. He hadn't done anything.

John smiled—a soft, happy smile. He very slowly swung up, watching again for signs of fear or disgust. He stretched out along Rodney’s side, so they were pressed together. He was on his side, leaning on an elbow so he could look down at Rodney. His free hand rested on Rodney’s chest, thumb making small circles.

Rodney stayed mostly still, moaning quietly as John made him feel good.

John looked up, gently taking Rodney's hand and putting it on his own hip. "You don’t have to, but you can touch me too, if you want."

With the permission to touch, Rodney did—carefully, gently. Fingers trailed over John's sides, grazing over his shirt.

John arched a bit into even the most tentative of Rodney's caresses, even as he returned to his soft caresses.

He would have liked to touch skin, but that wasn't allowed—especially without permission. But then, this wasn't about his pleasure. It was what John wanted.

As if he was reading Rodney's mind, John sat up. Moving slowly, giving Rodney time to object, he pulled his shirt over his head. “Better?”

Rodney's arms lifted up, so John reached over and pulled his shirt off too. So much for the clothes Carson had given him. He should have just stayed naked. It was how he was supposed to be anyway.

As soon as the shirt was gone, John lowered himself back along Rodney’s side. His mouth found Rodney’s for another slow, easy kiss.

Rodney opened his mouth, knowing it was what John wanted, moaning into the other man's mouth as John's tongue dove inside.

"Rodney..." John moaned it as he broke so they could breathe. "What do you want? Tell me what you want..."

He shook his head. He didn't want anything. It wasn't his place to want anything.

"Rodney..." John kissed him again. "Love you..."

Rodney kissed him back, the words threatening to spill over, but he held them back, held his tongue. He wasn't going to do anything wrong now. Maybe if he was good John would fuck him.

He tasted salt as John claimed his mouth yet again. John was crying as they kissed.

Oh god. What had he done?

John moved to bury his face in the crook of Rodney's neck. "I'm so fucking sorry, Rodney. Sorry I couldn't save you, sorry I couldn't stop whatever they did to you. Sorry they made you think you aren't worth anything. So fucking sorry, and I love you so much..."

But…Rodney simply took a deep breath and tentatively wrapped his arms around John, not sure he should. He didn't know the rules, what was expected.

John made a soft noise and curled a little closer, pressing more firmly against Rodney’s side. "I don't care what they told you. You're perfect, everything about you is perfect. You didn't have to change anything, or please anyone, or, or earn my love. I love you no matter what."

They stayed like that for a long time, John's body finally going loose in slumber, limbs relaxing. Staring at the ceiling, Rodney tried to piece together everything, but his mind was still muddled.

But John was safe. That's all that mattered.

Carson poked his head in at some point, walking quietly over to the bed.

"Fell asleep did he? I don't think he's slept more than an hour or two at a time since we brought him home, so I'm not surprised. How are you doing?"

Rodney nodded, eyes on Carson's lapel. "Okay."

"Dinna tell me what you think I want to hear. How are you doing?"

"Little confused," he finally answered.

Carson nodded. "I'm not surprised. Do you have any specific questions? If I can, I'll answer them for you."

Rodney licked his lips before he asked the question that was top of mind. "Is…is Kolya okay?"

He saw surprise in Carson's face, and sadness. "I dinna know that one. From what I could gather from the briefings I was able to catch, he was'na on the planet when they found you, but was expected back soon."

"He's going to be upset."

"Aye, I imagine he is. But that won't affect you at all. Rodney..." Carson sighed softly. "We caught one of his guards, who's been giving us a little bit of information on what was done to you. I know you think Kolya was protecting you, but that's because it's what he wanted you to think. He engineered situations that he could then 'save' you from."

"Kept me safe. Protected me."

"No, lad. He was the one you needed to be protected from. Let me put it this way—who was he supposedly keeping you safe from?"

Rodney shifted a little, licking his lips. He didn't want to argue. It wasn't his place. "The others."

Carson gave him an encouraging look. "Feel free to say whatever you want. I take it the others were the guards? Kolya's men?"

Rodney nodded. "They...they tried a few times."

"All right. Then Kolya was 'protecting' you from his own men. He can't have it both ways—either his men obey his orders to leave you alone, or they don't obey any orders at all. Given what I've seen, those men don't do anything they aren't told to do. So if the only way they would have bothered you at first would have been because they were told to—and then they backed off when told to so Kolya could foster the illusion of protection."

"No," Rodney whispered, shaking his head. No. Kolya kept him safe. Protected him.

"I know it's a lot to take in right now, and I don't expect you to believe me right away. Just think about it—use that brain of yours. In the meantime, your days and nights have gotten all turned around. I'm going to get you some food, and then I'd like you to rest as much as possible. We'll keep you up for as long as we can tomorrow to see if we can't get that problem, at least, taken care of quickly."

Rodney nodded. He'd like food. He hadn't gotten the chance to eat breakfast before they'd taken him from his room, from Kolya.

Smiling, Carson rose and walked out the door, returning a moment later with a tray full of food. "The mess staff sent up all your favorites, including the blue Jell-O you love so much."

Rodney felt his eyes widen at the sheer amount of food on the tray as Carson set it down next to the bed.

"Since I dinna know how much you've been eating lately, I'd like to see you get as much down as you can. But eat as much as you feel you can without making yourself sick."

But as much as Rodney wanted to eat, there was just something about it all that made it feel so wrong. It was like they were trying too hard to make him happy. He just wanted to go back to his room, his work. It was simple. Safe. He knew what they wanted of him. Here…here things were so very confusing.

And then there was the whole part about John laying against him. He couldn't move to eat without waking the other man.

Looking at the two of them, Carson smiled a bit. "It's good to have you both back safe and sound. But he is a bit of dead weight at the moment, isn't he? Let's see if we can't shift him a bit." Raising the bed a little and adding a pillow behind Rodney's back, Carson also gently moved John so he wasn’t pressed so closely against Rodney’s body. The pilot never woke up, and barely stirred.

Rodney didn't say anything as Carson wheeled the bedside table closer, his eyes drifting from the food to the doctor and back again. He had to make sure. He wanted to be good. He didn't want anyone taking John from him.

Carson nodded at the food. "Eat, lad. I won't stop you."

He nodded again, hesitant, but finally reached out, carefully breaking off a small piece of bread, pressing it to his mouth. Carson watched him carefully as one piece became two and then three, nodding to himself.

"Good, lad. I'll leave you to it. Eat as much as you want, and then try to rest. John is probably out for the night."

Offering a small smile, Rodney nodded again, the praise warming him. A few seconds later, Carson moved away, the door clicking closed behind him. Rodney shifted again on the bed, his one hand finally resting on John's shoulder, the other picking small pieces of food from the tray.

It was good. Different than he was used to. And he had John. He'd worry about everything else later.

***

The infirmary was quiet, empty except for the private room adjacent to Carson's office. The one with the door still closed.

Rodney. They'd found him, brought him home…brought his body home. His mind… No. She shook her head. She wouldn't go down that road before she knew more.

But from what she'd seen in the jumper bay…

Holding back another sigh, she pulled her arms tighter around her body as she waited, unable to go to bed until she knew, until she got an update. She'd sent everyone else to bed since there would be no visitors tonight.

The doors to the private room slid open and Carson emerged looking tired and worried. She stepped forward out of the shadows, her expression asking all the questions in a single moment.

He didn't look too surprised to see her, gesturing at his office. When the door was closed, he sank down into a chair. "Well, it's not as good as I had hoped, but not as bad as I had feared."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "The Genii had him for six weeks, Carson."

"Aye, and physically he shows signs of several beatings. But it's his mind I'm concerned with. The tests we've done so far turned up an unusual substance in his bloodstream, but we have'na had time to identify it yet. My biggest concern is that he is suffering from what appears to be a form of Stockholm Syndrome—towards Kolya."

"Drugs? And for Kolya?" Elizabeth closed her eyes, shivering slightly as the memory of the last time she'd seen the man rushed back. "Could it be the drugs causing it?"

"Aye, it's very possible. Stockholm Syndrome is very common in cases of captivity lasting a month or longer—even John was showing symptoms of it, and he was there two weeks less. But it is very possible the drugs helped it along. I won't know exactly what they were doing until I get the full work up back from the lab, though."

"And his mind?"

"He seems like he's all there—just more subdued, more... I guess the word is trained, conditioned. If it is a drug of some sort contributing, then as it wears off, we should see more of a return to his usual personality, although he will probably need Kate's services quite a bit."

She nodded. "Like John."

"Aye, very much so. If we're lucky, that will make helping Rodney easier—Kate and I have been through the gamut, so we can predict some of what’s coming, and we have John, who is doing better and can empathize better than anyone."

"Anything else I need to know about Rodney, about his condition?"

"Right now... no. I've given him a tray of food and got him settled for the night. His days and nights seem to be a bit turned around, so I plan to work on that first. We'll hope he'll rest tonight and keep him up tomorrow for as long as we can so he'll get back on a usual schedule. I know you need to get Radek in there to ask him about the books Lorne said they found, but it might be a few days before you can do that."

Elizabeth nodded, remember the brief mission report she'd gotten from Lorne about the Genii guard and what they'd found. They screwed with Rodney's head from the very beginning. "Okay. I'll leave you to it, then," she said, rising. "Is he awake? Can I stop and say hello?"

Carson nodded. "Poke your head in if you'd like. John is there as well, and sound asleep. But I doubt Rodney is sleeping yet."

"Oh," she said, pausing. "Should he be in there?"

Carson's mouth twitched. "Ordinarily, probably not. But I'm hoping it will be good for both of them. Having Rodney to take care of will give John more incentive to get better, and having John to prod him along and help him through the rough spots will hopefully make things easier for Rodney."

She glanced away from Carson, her initial reaction to check in on the scientist diminished. Knowing about him and John were one thing. Seeing them together…maybe she'd just wait until the morning.

"Elizabeth? I think it would be good for Rodney to see you stop in, to see we care about him. If you'd like, I'll walk in with you."

She turned, finding Carson at her elbow. "I'll just come back in the morning."

He caught her and started to steer her towards Rodney's door. "Don't think I did'na catch that you didn't hesitate until you heard John was there, too. Admittedly I'm still coming to terms with some aspects of their relationship, but in this case, they're both going to make things easier for the other. I doubt you'll get much chance to see them apart, at least for the next few days. I want John here to help Kate and I ease Rodney back into his memories of Atlantis."

"Carson," she protested, trying to tug her arm free. "I don't want to intrude. I've done that once already and that was more than enough." And she still had dreams about it. Carson didn't need to know about that, or about how much she missed Simon or how jealous she was of them.

Beckett snorted. "John is dead to the world—the stupid man has'na been sleeping lately. And Rodney was eating a spot of dinner. You aren't intruding." He opened the door, leading her in. Just as he had said, John was still fast asleep, and Rodney was picking at his food—it looked like about half of it was gone. "How are you doing, lad? Elizabeth wanted to come check in on you as well, and I figured it could'na hurt."

Rodney looked up, his blue eyes wide and confused as they settled on her for a moment before sliding away. She shifted to move away, but Carson caught her arm, making sure she stayed.

He tugged her next to the bed, gently, but his hand was firm. "How are you doing Rodney? How was the food?"

He nodded, still refusing to lift his eyes. "Good." God. She could barely hear him.

"Anything else I can get you?" Carson glanced over at Elizabeth, silently inviting her to join the conversation.

Rodney shook his head.

"Elizabeth?" Carson glanced over at her.

She nodded, knowing she needed to say something, anything. Taking a breath she stepped closer, her hand immediately moving to rest on the bed, fingers resting against the mattress, grazing Rodney's leg.

And even before she could get a word out, Rodney had whimpered and flinched, shifting away—as much as he could with John next to him.

Even Carson looked a little surprised by the reaction, and John started awake. "Wha...?"

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered, backing a few steps away.

John shook his head. "S'okay. Rodney?" His voice was still a little sleep-slurred, but he was focused back on the other man. Carson's hand back on her elbow kept Elizabeth from retreating any further.

But Rodney didn't reply, his body stiff with tension.

With a gentleness she didn't usually associated with John Sheppard, he very carefully touched Rodney's face with a single finger. "Hey. It's okay. You're okay, and no one here is going to hurt you. I promise."

Rodney nodded once, obviously listening to John, but still keeping his eyes down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle him," Elizabeth said finally, quietly. "I just wanted to see how he was doing."

"It's okay, Elizabeth." John glanced up, smiling slightly. "It will probably take him a while readjust."

Elizabeth nodded. "It's just habit. I’m sorry, I won't do it again."

John turned his attention back to Rodney. He looked a little better after his nap, however brief. "Hey. Do you want me to get off you, too? If you don't want to be touched right now, that's okay. I'll get Carson to bring in another bed for me."

"Actually, John. I'll bring in one anyway," Carson said quietly. "It'll give you a little more room."

"Thanks." John touched Rodney's face again very lightly. "Rodney? I know this is overwhelming. Tell me what we can do to make it easier for you."

Rodney's reply was quiet enough that Carson's movement to the door—grabbing a nurse to get another bed brought in—was enough to mask it. But John heard it.

She saw John's posture droop a little. "Rodney... You are home now, I promise. Whatever you need to make it feel that way again… it’s yours. I promise."

"You're among friends, Rodney," Elizabeth said, finally stepping closer once again, but keeping her hands to herself. "We want you to get better."

Nodding John slipped off the bed, so he was standing next to Elizabeth, although he did leave the tips of his fingers just grazing Rodney's leg. "Every day will get a little easier."

"No…" The word was whispered but desperate as Rodney's hand reached out to John.

John laced his their fingers together. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. If you want me to lie with you again I will, but if you don't like being touched, I'll use the other bed. Either way, I'll be in here with you for as long as you need me."

"Don't go, please."

John's free hand moved to caress Rodney's face again. "I won't."

Rodney leaned into John's hand, his eyes closing and Elizabeth immediately felt like a voyeur, but Carson's return to the room was the only thing that prevented her from slipping out the door.

Beckett moved next to her, raising an eyebrow at the two men, who, for the moment, seemed oblivious to anything else. He lowered his voice so only she could hear him. "Well that's a bloody good sign."

"You think so?"

"Aye. He's letting John touch him at least, so he's not completely phobic, and now John has someone he can touch as much as he needs to, hopefully."

Rodney was trembling slightly and John leaned down, pressing his lips to Rodney's forehead, whispering to him. Elizabeth turned away. "I…we should probably leave them…"

Carson was watching them, and nodded. "Go ahead. I'm going to get them settled for the night again. And Elizabeth?"

"Yes?" she asked, pausing just before leaving the room.

His expression hardened slightly, although it remained kind. "Whatever problem you have with them, I'd suggest you find a way to get over it quickly—use Kate's services if you need to. Rodney is going to need his friends and our support, and that includes you. I know it bothers you, but…"

"I'm fine, Carson. I'll leave you to it then," she said, already on the move.

"As much as I would like to, I can't make it a medical order. I respect you, Elizabeth, and I like you a lot. Too much to allow you to do this to yourself. Something is bothering you, and I have'na had time to sit and track it down with you. But I'm thinking it's about time I make the time."

"And I think you have two patients who require your attention. Good night, Carson."

"Good night, Elizabeth. Sleep well. And dinna forget that you have friends as well." He patted her arm before finally stepping aside enough to let her leave.

She nodded, grateful to be out of the room. At least here, away from them, she could forget what it was like to be loved and to love in return. She took a deep breath and headed for her room knowing sleep would be a long time in coming.

***

John woke up slowly, his fingers interlaced with someone else's. It only took him a moment to remember whose—Rodney. They had gotten Rodney back.  
  
Slitting his eyes open, he was surprised to find the pure blue framed with dark lashes that had been the stuff of his dreams for a year now—give or take—watching him. "Hey there."

"Hi." The word was quiet, barely reaching John's ears while Rodney's eyes slid away as soon as he realized John was awake and aware.

John pushed himself up without letting go of Rodney's hand. "Hey. Tell me what you're thinking."

Rodney paused for a minute, lips pursed before he replied, voice no louder than a whisper. "Glad you're safe. Scared that this is a dream."

Squeezing Rodney's hand lightly, John smiled. "Not a dream. And I'm here, safe and mostly sound. Truthfully, from what little I've gotten out of Beckett, it sounds like you had a worse time of it than I did."

McKay didn't answer, shrugging a little, but that was the extent of his reaction.

Sighing, John wondered what would convince his lover that he was okay. He didn't know if it would help, but maybe telling Rodney a little bit about where he had been held would make a difference. "I was owned by a man named Ashira. I was a... a pleasure slave. Well treated, for the most part, although I was drugged to the gills. I'm still having some withdrawal from it, and if you notice me touching, and begging to be touched, more often, it's part of the aftereffects. Touching felt really, really good, and even now, with the stuff out of my system, I find myself craving that almost more than the pria."

Confusion crossed Rodney's face, his fingers tightening on John's for a moment.

Not knowing what his lover was thinking, John kept talking, in the hopes that he would strike something important. "They used two drugs actually—the pria all the time, and that's what made, god even eddies of air feel fucking fantastic. It also clouded the mind—I wasn't John Sheppard. I was Jita, and my sole purpose in life was to please my master. They used another drug called laai that ensured no matter how many times you came, you were hard again almost immediately."

Rodney's eyes had closed in the middle of John's explanation, his body tense, hand gripping and releasing John's hand.

"Rodney?"

"Carson…need…can I…" The request was forced out, but John reacted immediately.

He was up and standing next to the bed, hitting the button for Carson. "You what? What do you need, Rodney? Anything."

"I’m sorry," he whispered, the words desperate, broken.

"Nothing to be sorry for Rodney, none of this is your fault. Please, tell me what's wrong, what I can do to make it better."

"Can't…please…please don't make me say…tell you…please, John."

John risked sitting on the edge of the bed, pressing his leg against Rodney's. "Tell me what? I promise, Rodney, whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. Whatever was done to you, whatever you did to survive—you're alive and that's all that counts."

"I did it for you," he whispered, the sentence ending in a sob. Carson chose that moment to rush in, John's raised hand stopping him mid-step.

"Did what for me? Someone told you to do something or they would hurt me?"

Rodney nodded his head and Carson drifted closer.

"They were lying, Rodney. No one will tell me who exactly had you, but since I know you weren't owned by Ashira, I can tell you without any hesitation that your captors were lying." John used his thumb to caress the edge of Rodney's jaw, squeezing his hand a little. "Although I appreciate the thought. If I was told you were in danger, I would do anything they asked to protect you."

"I gave myself to him…to protect you."

Swallowing, John decided that was probably why no one would tell him exactly who had had Rodney—if he knew, he would be trying to kill them right now. He leaned down to press a very soft kiss to the corner of Rodney's mouth. "It's okay. Really. You didn't have a choice, any more than I did. We were slaves, and we did what we had to do survive. I'm so sorry someone managed to use me to hurt you more though."

"Kolya said he'd purchased you…had you in a different facility. Told me how you were being used…"

John froze, every muscle in his body going still. He heard Carson's quiet curse in Gaelic, but tuned it out. "Kolya. He's the one who had you. And he told you he was torturing me."

Rodney nodded, pressing his face to John's chest. "Bought me, used me…I did it to protect you…thought I was protecting you."

"Oh god, Rodney, I am so sorry..." John wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him close. "He is a fucking liar, and he used you. He never had me. I promise. You did protect me though—by giving him what he wanted, you kept yourself alive and whole. I would have gone insane if he had hurt you badly, had broken you. You protected me by protecting yourself."

"I’m so sorry. So sorry." Rodney kept whispering the words over and over again, his tears staining John's shirt.

Carson put his hand on John's shoulder. "Let me give him something to calm him down. I donna know how much sleep he got last night."

Nodding, John just held Rodney and rocked him softly, whispering reassurances, words of love, telling his lover it was okay, it would all be okay, while he waited for Carson's drugs to kick in.

John could feel it kicking in as Rodney's body got heavier as he leaned into John more and more.

When the other man gave in and slipped into slumber, John very gently laid him down, arranging him in the bed comfortably. Then, without a word to Carson, he turned on his heel and started for the gate room. He was going to fucking kill that bastard. This time, there wouldn't be any mercy or hesitation.

"John! Bloody hell, slow down! Where do you think you're going?"

"Stay with, Rodney. He needs you." John sped up. He wasn't stupid. He knew that as soon as they figured out what he was doing, they would try to stop him. Ever since the siege, he had cached weapons in a few places around the city. He stopped briefly at one of those, arming himself, glad he had been wearing his daily uniform last night, even if it was a bit wrinkled now.

Lorne was standing in the hallway in front of the door that led into the gate room, a wraith stunner in his hand. "Stand down, sir."

John stopped, but didn't back down. "Get out of my way, Lorne. You knew. You fucking knew who had him. Kolya has messed with me, with us, one too many times. I am going to take care of the problem like I should have done the first fucking time."

"I can't let you do that, sir."

"You don't have a choice, Major. I'm still the ranking officer in the city, and I'm ordering you to get the fuck out of my way."

"You are not currently in command, sir. Stand down."

Growling, practically vibrating with rage, John pulled the Beretta he had strapped to his thigh and aimed it at Lorne. "Don't make me shoot you, Evan. You're not the one I want to hurt today."

"And trust me, sir, I really don't want you to shoot me. Doctor Becket has enough to do right now." He took a breath, but didn't move away from the door. "I only found out who had Doctor McKay when we were on the planet Ashira led us to. Only then and we found him and brought him home."

"And you did a good job, Lorne. Now get out of my way so I can do mine."

"I can't do that, sir."

John narrowed his eyes. He really didn't want to shoot his second, but he wasn't going to be deterred either. Kolya was going to die. Shifting his aim, John figured Lorne's leg would incapacitate him, but not do any permanent damage.

"There's more men inside, sir. I'm not the only one that will stop you. Kolya's probably gone already. We left quite a trail through his underground bunker."

Since he really didn't want to shoot, he started walking forward again, although he kept the gun aimed and ready. "I don't really care. I am going into the control room, dialing that damn planet, and I am killing Kolya. End of story."

"No, sir. You're not."

"He fucking told McKay he had me Major, and would hurt or kill me unless McKay did as he was told. This isn't a discussion." John came up level with Lorne, aiming his gun at the other man's thigh. "Get out of my way."

"I know, Colonel. The guard has already told us as much. Before you pull the trigger, just think of the paperwork, sir."

John brought up his knee, counting on the fact that Evan really wasn't expecting it. When the other man doubled over slightly, John twisted him and slammed him into the wall. "Sorry about that. I'll buy you a drink later to make it up to you." Reholstering his weapon, John started back for the gate.

And Lorne hadn't been joking about the Marines.

Just in the area below the gate there were ten. In the control room—of the part he could see—there were at least that many. Elizabeth was on the balcony looking down, her face set in a scowl.

Crossing his arms, John glared at her. "Call them off. I might not be officially on duty at the moment, but I'm still the ranking officer. You're inciting mutiny."

"Actually, the current military commander of his base is somewhere out in the hall you just left," Elizabeth said dryly, watching as he climbed the stairs to the control room. "Can I ask what state you left him in?"

"I didn't shoot him, and only because I happen to like him. Unlock the gate, Elizabeth. I'm going through."

"No, John, you're not. I would like you to report to Carson in the infirmary."

"No." John walked up to the control console. He had his own damn command codes, he could override. He was pissed as hell, and this was just ratcheting it up. He needed to hurt someone, and it needed to be Kolya.

Elizabeth watched him, her arms crossed over her chest as he shoved the gate technician out of the way to start dialing. But he didn't know the address.

"Fuck." He fought the urge to put his fist through the damn console and then he narrowed his eyes. He wasn't stupid, despite what he let people believe. And he had been watching Rodney and Radek work for a long time now. Grabbing the computer, he started to do a search for the last ten gate addresses dialed out.

Lorne stumbled up the stairs a few minutes later, gesturing for the Marines in the room to leave. "Sorry, ma'am," he said as he stopped next to Elizabeth.

It took him longer than he would have hoped—longer than it would have taken Rodney—but he found the addresses and copied them down. Without a word, he turned and started for the jumper bay. If he was going planet hopping, he was doing it by air.

Lorne and Elizabeth let him go.

John found the jumper bay deserted, and was suspicious, but they couldn't fucking lock down every address. If he had to, he would use his connection with the city to force her to let him through the gate—anywhere would do. He could start on the addresses he pulled from the computer once he was off-world. Not bothering with preflight, he fired up the systems.

He started to dial the address he wanted, but the last chevron wouldn't lock. So he tried another. And the same thing happened. And another. And another.

Muttering low curses, John closed his eyes and opened himself up to the city. He felt her responding, sluggishly, but responding. "I am going through the fucking gate, Elizabeth. Don't make me break the city to do it."

"No, John, you're not," Elizabeth said, her voice coming in over the jumper speakers.

"He fucked with me one too many times. I can feel someone overriding me as I go. Tell Zelenka to stand down."

"You're fighting against Atlantis herself, John."

Growling, John rammed his fist into the jumper console. "Give me the fucking clearance. I'm not standing down, Elizabeth. I'm not stopping until that bastard is dead."

"That's not going to happen, John. Report to the infirmary."

"That's not going to happen, Elizabeth."

"You're not leaving Atlantis."

Growling again, John redoubled his efforts, using the Jumper interface as well as he gene to break through the locks on the gate. "Dead. I'm going to fucking hurt him until he asks for mercy and then I'm going to kill him. He's hurt my people one too many times."

"I know how you feel, John, but that's not the way."

"It's my way." He felt the city giving, reluctantly, but he was getting through. Just a few more minutes.

"You'd leave everything behind to do this?"

"You'd keep me from coming back?" He slammed his hands down on the symbols. "He needs to fucking suffer."

"John, you're not thinking straight."

In his brief hesitation, the city shut him out again. "Fuck!" He stood and hit the wall of the jumper so hard he heard bone break.

"The protocols put in place are not going to let you get past them, John."

He screamed a few obscenities, mostly aimed at the city. "Don't send anyone to look for me. You don't want to get shot." He stalked back out of the jumper and started for uninhabited parts. He needed to hit something, and right now it was looking like the wall was his only option.

It was Ronon who found him out on the pier.

John had hit several more walls, and he still hadn't gotten rid of the rage that was tearing through him. "Go back and tell Elizabeth the only reason I didn't shoot you is because you're a fucking faster draw than I am."

"Shoot me if it will help. I can still stun you and drag you to the infirmary."

"I'm not going to the infirmary right now. I'm not in the mood for a lecture from Beckett, and I'm not running the risk of saying something to make things worse for Rodney. Go away, Ronon." John brought his hand down again on the railing—at this point he knew there was more than one bone broken, but at least the pain gave him something grounding.

"No."

"Fine, then I will." He turned to stalk back into the city. If she wouldn't let him leave, she would damn well hide him.

Ronon kept pace, walking easily beside him not saying a word.

With a noise of warning, John turned and narrowed his eyes. "Stand down, Ronon. That's an order."

"We're not on duty. Can't order me."

"But you'll obey Elizabeth's order to hunt me down? Go away, Ronon, I'm not in the mood for this." He stalked away again.

Ronon let him get ahead, but caught up a few minutes later. "Killing Kolya won't change anything. At least that's what Teyla told me."

"She's wrong." He got in the transporter, but the damn Satedan was fast—slipping in before the doors closed and hitting a destination. John narrowed his eyes again.

But when John stepped out at the destination, Ronon didn't follow, pressing another location as soon as John was clear. "At least you got McKay back."

He was gone a moment later.

Whirling, John was ready to snap out an angry retort when he was grabbed from behind. "Fuck! Let me go!" He kicked back, struggling against his own men as they disarmed him.

"This time, sir, you will stand down." Lorne was smirking at him, the two men holding him tightly in place.

John regretted not shooting him earlier. "Fuck you. Let me go, Lorne."

"Let's bring him to the brig to cool him off," Lorne said, ignoring John. "Make sure he's given dinner."

John cursed again, which turned into a surprised half-scream as one of the men holding him twisted his hand behind his back. He had ignored the pain before, but he had also been deliberately hurting it, anticipating each of the blows. This one caught him by surprise.

"Jenkins, hold up," Lorne said, walking around behind John. "What did you do, sir?"

Pulling in a few gasping breaths, John glared. "You would prefer I hit the Marines?"

"They're softer." Lorne walked back around to look at John as he tapped his radio. "Lorne to Beckett."

John cursed again, struggling against Jenkins and Dumont, the other man holding him. He appealed to them. "You know I'm right. Kolya has fucked with us too many times. The bastard needs to die. I made the mistake of letting him live last time, and I want to correct that now."

"We were there, sir. We saw." It was Jenkins who answered.

"Okay, boys. We're going to the infirmary as per Doctor Beckett's orders," Lorne said, giving John the evil eye. "And don't think I won't stun you."

Ignoring Lorne, John kept talking to the other men. "So you know we can't just sit back and pretend it never happened. Let me go, give me back my weapons, and tell me the damn gate address."

"No, sir," Jenkins said as they started to drag John to the infirmary, Lorne's hand on the Wraith stunner the entire time.

"Fuck." John stopped struggling about half-way there. He knew he couldn't get away, and being dragged in only increased the odds of Beckett restraining him. And damn if Beckett wasn't flanked by Elizabeth and Teyla both when he was finally brought into the infirmary.

"I'm glad the major was able to track you down," Carson said stepping forward. "Let's see about that hand of yours."

"It's fine. Rodney?"

"Until you are treated that topic is off-limits." Beckett gestured to a bed in the main section of the infirmary.

Jenkins and Dumont dropped his arms, and John winced as his hand protested. He stalked to the bed and hopped up, glaring at pretty much everyone. He felt like he had been betrayed by all of them. When Beckett jerked his arm, however, John sucked in another breath. "I might have hit a wall... or five."

"Uh huh," Beckett said, shaking his head as he carefully manipulated John's hand. "I'm going to need to get you under a scanner."

Wincing, John sighed. "I'm pretty sure I broke all the fingers. If not, I'm disappointed, since that was the goal."

Carson glanced up, noting the distance of the audience before continuing, his voice pitched low. "Seems counterproductive to break your fingers when you're going to be needing them."

"If they're broken I can't shoot anyone. That was a bigger problem at the time." John slumped into the bed, suddenly exhausted, his anger draining out. "He hurt him, Carson. He made him believe he had me, used me to fuck with his head."

"I know."

"So why did you stop me? I know you're the one who tipped them off I was coming. I could have been through the gate, killed Kolya, and been back before anyone missed me."

"Because it wouldn't have accomplished anything."

"He would be dead and we wouldn't have to worry about him anymore." John winced again as Carson brought him over to another machine and started scanning for the damages. "Rodney still sleeping?"

"After a second dose of sedatives, yes."

"How was he?"

"You're the only one he'll let touch him. Makes our job treating him difficult at best," Carson said. "Hold still."

John did as he was told. "Is he going to be all right?"

Cason was quiet, examining the readings he was getting. "I think the other Ancient device should be able to heal these nicely."

"That's not an answer." John sighed. "Are you going to let me anywhere near him now?"

"Not until we fix this hand of yours. Angela is sitting with him."

John hung his head. "I'm sorry. I lost my temper. I should warn you, I'm still angry. Very, very angry."

Carson glanced up, finally looking at him. "Do you think you're the only one?"

"No. But for me, it's personal. Not only was it Rodney, but Kolya used me to hurt him."

"He used the thought of you to manipulate him," Carson corrected, his voice tight, edged with anger. "The beating and the sleep deprivation and the bare minimum of food and the drugs and the nakedness were to control him and break him. And until I can actually talk to him—until he'll actually talks to someone for more than a few words—we won't know if Kolya broke him."

John swallowed hard, hanging his head, dropping his eyes. "He can't be broken. You and Kate can fix him. Right?"

"We're going to try."

"You fixed me."

"We're going to try." Carson sighed. He patted John's arm. "Come on, let's get these bones knitted back together."

Nodding again, John hopped off the bed and followed the doctor. He had to set his own anger aside, at least for now. Rodney needed him sane.

***

Kate stood in the doorway of the private infirmary room where Rodney McKay was being treated and just watched. John had been allowed back in after Carson healed the damage he did to his hand, and it was good to see the two of them together. They weren't saying much, but there were in constant contact with one another, John sitting on the side of the bed, their fingers interlaced.

Taking a deep breath, she made a slight noise to alert them to her presence before moving inside. "John, Rodney. Good afternoon to both of you."

Rodney glanced at her quickly, his gaze fleeting, before he focused on their clasped hands. John offered a smile and welcome.

"Hi, Kate." She saw him rub his thumb a few times over the back of Rodney's hand. "I'm guessing you're here to talk to Rodney. Do you need me to leave?"

"I don't know yet," she said carefully, sitting on the bedside chair. Carson had already warned her about Rodney's skittishness and his reactions to most everything. "Depends if Rodney is comfortable talking with me."

John reached out, catching Rodney's chin and forcing the other man to look up. "Hey, there. It's up to you. Do you want me to leave so you can talk freely with Kate, or are you more comfortable with me staying here beside you? There is no wrong answer, and I won't be upset, no matter which one you choose."

Rodney glanced at her again, quickly, briefly, before turning back to John, saying something she couldn't catch even enough she was seated next to the bed.

John shook his head. "Yes, it does. We're not going to force you into anything you aren't comfortable with."

He was quiet for a long moment before Rodney finally spoke again. "I…I can talk to her."

After a quick glance to make sure no one else was in the room, John pressed a soft kiss to Rodney's lips. "When you're done, you can have Kate or Carson call me, and I'll come back and sit with you again."

Rodney nodded, hanging tightly onto John's hand.

Glancing over at Kate, John looked torn. He stood up, but Rodney hadn't released his hand. "Do you want me to just wait outside?"

It took nearly a minute of silence before Rodney finally untangled his fingers from John's, tucking his hand into his armpit as he crossed his arms over his chest.

John kissed him again lightly, whispering something Kate didn't catch before moving out of the room. She settled into her chair, moving it a bit closer to catch Rodney's quiet words, but not close enough to touch. She decided to start with small talk, and see if she could relax him a bit. "I hear the mess hall is scouring the base for blue Jell-o and chocolate stashes for you."

Rodney nodded. "Carson…Carson said."

"Is there anything else you're missing? I can pass the word along for you."

This time it's a negative shake of his head, eyes still fixed on his blankets.

"All right. Well, you know I'm here as someone you can talk to, without fear of repercussions. You can say anything at all, and it won't go beyond the two of us unless you choose to tell someone yourself."

"I know…I remember that."

"Good. Excellent. Right now I know you're still confused, so instead of me asking you questions, is there anything I can answer for you?" She had found that engaging Rodney McKay's need to know things—the quality that made him such a good scientist—sometimes got him to open up more than just asking questions alone. She hoped it would be the case again here.

Rodney was silent for a long moment and Kate wasn't sure he was going to answer her, but he finally did, the question whispered. "How…how long?"

"How long were you gone?" She smiled softly. "You took us the longest to find—six weeks. John was gone for four weeks, Teyla for about two, and Ronon for one. Ronon was the only one to escape on his own, and was the one who alerted us to what happened. After that, Major Lorne's team tracked you each down, one by one."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"Getting…being hard to find."

"Why do think that was your fault? Something you should be sorry for?"

"Should have done something…fought back."

"The same could be said for Teyla. Or John. Do you blame them for needing to be rescued as well?"

Rodney shook his head.

"Me neither. Just like I don't blame you. None of you had any choice in what happened to you. You, especially, did an excellent job. You were in probably the most difficult situation of anyone on your team, and you survived it long enough to come home to us."

Rodney took a shuddering breath and shook his head again.

She smiled softly again. "I know it's hard to take in, but please believe me, I'm not the only one who feels this way. And together, we're going to find a way to make you believe it too. Me and Carson, John, Elizabeth, Ronon and Teyla, Radek Zelenka—all of your friends are very happy to have you home, and we all wish we could have spared you from having to go through any of it."

"I chose."

"You chose what?"

"To…" he began, only to close his eyes a beat later, shaking his head.

She thought about what the guard had told them, what Kolya had made Rodney believe, and was pretty sure that was what he was referring to. "You believed what a very diabolical man wanted you to believe, Rodney. What he did to you wasn't an accident or luck, he set out to make you believe the lies he was telling you. You aren't to blame for that. Anyone in your position would have believed the same thing."

"I let him…begged him…" This time when the words broke off, there was a small sob at the end.

She risked setting her hand on the edge of the bed—close enough that he could take it if he wanted, but not forcing the connection. "You believed you were doing it to protect John, and Kolya knew that. He found a way to bend you to his will, and once he had, he used it without mercy. That is not your fault."

He shook his head. "How can John…"

"Has he told you anything about his own captivity yet?"

"Yes."

"Do you blame him for what he did?"

"No. He had no choice."

"Then why are you surprised that he feels the same way about your captivity?"

"Different."

"How is it different?"

"It is."

"How?"

"It just is," Rodney said, the answer just on the other side of his whisper, hissed and angry.

"No, Rodney, it isn't. But we can come back to this later if you'd like."

He nodded his head, pulling his legs up toward his chest, arms wrapping around them. He was closing off again.

She fished around for something she knew would interest him, keep him with her. "I was talking with Radek the other day, and they've made some progress on some of the projects going on in the labs. I know he is excited to have you back, and looking forward to working with you again. How do you feel about that?"

Rodney shrugged, turning his head away.

"Do you have any other questions for me?"

"No."

Mentally sighing, Kate decided to bring the session to a close. They had lost a little ground at the end, but she didn't want to slide back completely to square one. "I think we've made good progress today. Would you like me to find John for you?"

"Please."

Rising, she smiled at him again. "We're all very happy to have you home, Rodney. Don't lose sight of that."

He hadn't turned his head back toward her, so he hadn't seen her smile, but she hoped that he at least believed her. With a final breath, she walked out the door to find John hovering anxiously just outside.

"Well? How did it go?"

Kate shrugged, pursing her lips together as she made sure the door to the private room was closed. "Good enough for a first session."

He sighed, sinking into a chair. He still didn't look like he was sleeping much, although he was probably getting more now that Rodney was back. "How do we fix him? Is it... are we going to be able to undo all the damage that fucker did to him?"

"We're going to try our best, but it will take time."

"Great."

Kate sighed at his tone. "John, you have to be patient. We're going to do everything we can to make sure he gets better. I still have to get the final report from the interview with the guard so we know where to start."

"I know. It's just…damn it."

"I know, John," she said, resting her hand on his arm. "Try to draw him out the best you can. Get him to talk—one thing I never thought I'd ever hear myself say."

Huffing, he looked up and managed a small smile. "I'll do what I can. I can update you on anything I get out of him when I have my regular sessions with you. Between the two of us, when do you find time for anything else?"

"Sometimes I wonder that as well," she said with a warm smile. "But let's not worry about that. Let's just get everything back to normal. Okay?"

"Working on it." He smiled again and leaned slightly into her hand before standing. "Thanks."

"One thing seemed to work out, though."

"Oh? What?" He paused with his hand on the doorknob.

"You're the only one he's not skittish around and he's letting you touch him, get close. It makes it hard to treat him at times, but…" She shrugged. "It's something."

John nodded. "If he didn't let me touch him, you'd probably have me basketcasing on you again."

"Is that an actual word?"

"Military commander's privilege. I get to make up words whenever I want."

She nodded, chuckling lightly. "So when are we meeting today?"

"When do you want me? I'll probably be with Rodney most of the day."

"I understand," she said with a nod. "And that will probably help him, to have you close. I don't want to put off today's session so you tell me a good time."

"This evening then? After dinner? It will give Carson a chance to look him over without me hovering."

"That will be fine. Just radio before you come."

He nodded, and with a small wave, disappeared back into Rodney's room.

Kate sighed once the door closed behind him, rubbing a hand over her face. She had a lot of work to do and she didn't even have the first place to start. Some days she hated her job—especially when people…other people…could do this to someone else.

Sometimes it made her doubt humanity—and her own sanity.

"Need a shoulder to lean on for a few minutes? Or a spot of tea?" The Scottish drawl came from behind her.

She turned, offering Carson a tired smile. "Is it too early for something stronger?"

"A wee bit. So tea it is then." He smiled and led her into his office. He had a carafe on the small table behind his desk—apparently filled with hot water—which is poured into two cups after adding tea bags. A cup was handed to her a moment later. "So it was bad?"

She blew on it before taking small sip, feeling it warm her. "I'm not sure he will bounce back from this."

"We've only had him back for a little over twenty-four hours, and the drugs in his system are still working their way out. He's actually in better shape in some ways than John was when we brought him home."

"You're more optimistic than I am."

He took a sip from his own mug. "I have to be, luv. It's the only way I get out of bed every morning. But what can I do to make your life a little easier right now?"

"Right now it seems the hardest thing is just getting him to speak or even look at people. I'm guessing that's some kind of conditioned response, but until I see the final report the guard provided, I won't know for sure."

Carson dug out a stack of papers and handed them over. "That's my copy of the preliminaries, which are a bit more detailed than the ones you got I think. From what the guard said, Kolya did a number on him, that's for sure. It looks like he tried several different tactics before he hit on one that worked—telling Rodney his good behavior was the only thing keeping John safe. I’m sure if you have specific questions we can get them answered. He's in the brig and not going anywhere."

Kate put down her glass and started skimming through the pages. "That was probably the turning point, yes, but I'm sure there was more leading up to it." She paused, shaking her head as one point jumped out. "Here, like this. He was gagged and kept silent for more than a week. Forcibly silenced and then his continual silence was probably encouraged and rewarded."

"Aye, I saw that. And there are more instances where he was punished for speaking up and rewarded for keeping quiet. But what can be conditioned can be unconditioned. I'm more concerned with his overall mental state. Everything else can be fixed in time."

"But that plays a part as well."

"I know. It's a complicated process. But knowing exactly what was done and what was tried should make it a bit easier, no?"

"Yes." She flipped through a few more pages as she continued. "I didn't get a chance to really speak to you at any length about what happened this morning, about what exactly set John off."

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "We hadn't told John it was Kolya who had Rodney. But this morning... he found out. He held it together until Rodney was sedated, but then, well, you saw his reaction."

Kate nodded. "It was…expected. I'm glad he didn't hurt anyone or really hurt himself. How did he find out?"

"Rodney said his name." Carson sighed. "John did quite a number on his hand though. He broke almost every bone it was possible to break, and he's damn lucky I have a machine to fix that sort of thing now. Otherwise, he probably would have lost feeling and dexterity in it."

"How was he when you were treating him?"

"Once he got past his anger—or as past it as we're going to get right now—he seemed... very defeated. He wants to help, but he does'na know what will work, and what might trigger a bad memory."

"None of us knows that, unfortunately." Kate sighed, holding up the pages in her hand. "Can I borrow these? I need to read them before I can even try to decide on a course of treatment. Also, I'll need Rodney's medical records."

Carson nodded. "Aye, take that copy—I'll get another from Elizabeth. As for the medical records..." he hesitated. "I know you need them, but I also have to walk a fine line here. I don't want to give anyone a reason to question privacy. So tell you what, I'll add you as a temporary specialist working on his case, which will give you limited access. If you need more than that, I'll see what I can do."

Kate nodded. "Whatever you can do will help, thank you."

He finished off his tea. "All right, I heard John making an appointment with you for tonight. I'll make sure to chase him out so he does'na miss it. In the meantime, I have other patients to see to and rounds to make."

Kate eyed her half-finished drink as she rose. "Thank you, Carson. I'll be sure to touch base with you once I can get through the files."

"Take it with you, lass. And I'm always here for you. Even if you just need someone for a little talking of your own to." He smiled, patting her shoulder. "Feel free to stay here as long as you need."

"I have my own set of patients and reports. Thanks." Kate watched Carson move into the main section of the infirmary, checking on a few charts with one of the nurses. Taking a deep breath she headed out. She had a lot of reading and planning to do.

***

Rodney missed his watch. It was a small thing, but it was something that had been taken away from him weeks ago.

It was digital and calibrated to reflect Atlantis' twenty-seven hour day. He wore it everywhere.

He used to wear it everywhere.

It was still hard to put everything together, to put things in place. He knew he'd been disloyal to John and that eclipsed everything else. He should have known better. He was a genius. Smartest man in two galaxies. But he took Kolya's word as law.

Kolya.

Curling tighter on his side, he tried to shove away the memory of Kolya's hands, at the way he felt when he had touched him…fucked him.

But it was hard.

Out of all the memories of that time, those were the clearest—as if burned into his mind.

John had left him alone some time ago. He had an appointment with Kate he had to keep. Without a watch or a clock, he had no time reference. And whatever ability he had before was now completely ruined.

Kolya had done that, among other things.

Rodney had so much to atone for…to make up to John. And he wanted to try.

A light knock signaled someone's entrance into his room, but he didn't even look up. They could do whatever they wanted. He didn't care. Radek had been in before, asking him questions about his notes, most of which he couldn't even remember writing in the first place. Struggling to remember had just brought back more memories, had only reminded him of what he'd done, how Kolya has broken him.

There weren't enough years in his life to make up for what he'd done.

The scrape of a chair next to his bed let him know whomever it was had sat down. They seemed content to just sit with him for the moment.

Rodney remained still, simply listening, waiting for an order, a question, something. He knew better than to start anything himself.

He heard the sound of the chair shifting slightly, then quiet again except for steady, relaxed breathing.

He flinched when he felt the first tentative touch of a hand on his arm, near his wrist, his eyes opening to look up, finding himself staring at Teyla for a brief second before his eyes slid away.

"I thought perhaps you would appreciate the company. However, I will simply enjoy being in your presence again if you do not wish to speak."

Even though his heart was pounding a little from her touch, he shifted his hand, managing to grasp her fingers. He remembered her. Knew she had tried to help him.

She smiled softly, squeezing his hand lightly. "Do you remember the meditation techniques I once taught you? Perhaps they will help you now, to find and center yourself again. I would be happy to walk you through them, if you would like."

Meditation? He didn't remember any meditation, but he wasn't going to argue with her. He shrugged instead, focusing on their hands—pale and tan—fingers twined together.

She squeezed again lightly. "I will show you. Sit up, and cross your legs."

He nodded, moving instinctively to obey the command. It took him a moment to get his legs in position but her praise was worth the effort.

"Very good. If you do not mind, I will sit on the end of the bed with you. That way we can continue to converse. If I were to sit on the floor, it would be more difficult."

He nodded hesitantly. It would be okay for her to sit on the bed. He wouldn't get in trouble for that…shouldn't. Carson let John sit there.

She arranged herself in a position exactly like his. "Now close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Allow your body to relax and your mind to quiet."

Rodney lifted his gaze, briefly meeting her eyes before he nodded. He could trust her.

Her voice was low, soothing, as she walked him step by step through the exercise.

With each passing moment, Rodney felt himself relaxing. Her words were clear and concise, helping him to forget—for just a little while—what he did. By the end, they were silent, simply sitting together meditating.

Rodney vaguely realized he heard something—Teyla's whispered words—but ignored it, focused instead on the quiet in his mind.

The bed shifted a little, and he heard what sounded like a farewell. Then it shifted again, dipping down lower as a heavier body settled on the bed.

He caught the hint of aftershave, a familiar smell, and smiled lightly, letting it quiet him further. Safe. He was safe and protected.

Another shift of the bed, and a foot was pressed lightly against his leg. He felt more than heard John take a deep breath, settling down.

They stayed like that for a long while until Rodney felt his legs going numb from the position. Shifting slightly on the bed, he felt John's hand quickly move to rest on his arm, anchoring him.

"Careful. Don't want you falling off the bed." His voice was low, a little rough—it was the voice Rodney had heard in the bedroom before.

Rodney slowly opened his eyes, looking up at John through his lashes.

Hazel eyes sparkled back at him. "It's getting late. Do you want to meditate some more, or try and get some sleep?"

He nodded. Whatever John wanted was fine.

"Did it help? The meditation? You looked a lot more relaxed."

"Little."

"Good. I'll tell Teyla. She offered to sit with you a little every day, if you want her to."

"She's nice."

John laughed quietly. "Yeah, she is. I don't know what we would do without her."

A memory of John from that planet flashed briefly and Rodney closed his eyes. "You…you okay?"

Warm fingers ran down his arm, settling on his leg. "Yeah. I am. I wasn't sure for a while, but... I think I'm okay now."

Rodney nodded, letting his hand settle over John's.

John made a soft, happy noise, turning his hand so their fingers were intertwined. "I really missed you."

"I…I missed you, too."

John's voice dropped down to a husky whisper. "I really want to kiss you right now."

Rodney could feel his heart rate rising—but this time not in fear. He nodded, opening his eyes again, briefly meeting John's arousal-filled eyes. Oh god. John really wanted him…even after everything.

Leaning in, John sucked lightly on Rodney's lower lip. "Missed you so much," he was breathing the words between licks. "Love you so much."

He tightened his grip on John's hand, his eyes closing once again as he leaned closer.

Taking it as an invitation, John dipped into Rodney's mouth, almost delicately, his tongue sliding in, lips claiming Rodney's slowly.

This was what Rodney remembered—the taste of John's mouth, the feel of John's stubble against his skin. This is what he'd dreamt about. He moaned quietly, his free hand tentatively reaching out, touching John's shirt just above his hip.

John answered him with a moan of his own, shifting so he was closer to Rodney, deepening the kiss.

God. He could kiss John forever.

Breaking the kiss when neither of them could breathe anymore, John panted into Rodney's neck, nuzzling a little. He moved again so their legs were tangled together on the bed as they leaned into each other. "You taste so good. I really want to taste you all over."

"Please…" he whispered, wanting to forget, needing to forget everything else for a little while.

John ran his hands up and down Rodney's chest, then pushed them under the scrub top, rubbing against skin until he found Rodney's nipples. John smiled slightly just before he started playing with the rings a little. "I dream about you. About touching you, kissing you, fucking you. It's driving me crazy not being able to claim you again."

Rodney moaned, panting as John's hands slid over his skin. They knew him, knew his body. They felt so right.

His shirt was pulled off completely before he was pushed back into the bed. John straddled him and began to taste him, tongue and fingers drawing patterns of pleasure all over Rodney's chest and arms.

With quiet moans, Rodney let John's hands touch him, ground him, remind him of what had been before, of what he'd given away.

Moving further down, John ran his tongue along the waistband of the loose pants Rodney was wearing before mouthing at his groin. "Want to taste all of you. Everything."

He nodded. Whatever John wanted he could have. Anything at all.

Pulling the fabric down just to Rodney's thighs, John licked a broad, wet stripe up his erection. Then he slowly, carefully, began to give Rodney the blow job of his life.

With his hands clenched in the fabric of the infirmary bed, Rodney moaned and whimpered losing himself in the sensations. He whispered pleas to come, begging that he'd been good, that he'd obeyed, done everything they'd asked.

John's breath was hot as he pulled off long enough to get Rodney's attention. "Come whenever you want. This is about you, making you feel good." Then he was going back down, using his lips and teeth and tongue to make Rodney fly higher and higher.

With a whimper, Rodney finally came, his breath catching in his throat as his body shuddered and trembled.

John gentled him through the aftershocks, and then licked him completely clean before settling the scrub pants back in place. He slithered up Rodney's body, the bulge of his own erection pressing into Rodney's leg as John claimed Rodney's mouth again, letting him taste himself.

Rodney's hands finally released the death grip he had on the sheets, moving to hold onto John's hips. This was what he remembered—these sounds, these smells, these sensations.

John moaned, his hips pressing first up into Rodney's hands, then grinding down against him as they kissed.

He could live here, just like this. Here he was safe.

Breaking the kiss, John pulled back enough to look at Rodney, his eyes blown wide with arousal. "Touch me. Please? I want to feel your hands all over my body, want to come for you..."

Rodney whimpered. Touch him? But it wasn't allowed…

John sat up and pulled his own shirt off. He took Rodney's hands and pressed then to his own skin. "Touch me. Explore me. Rodney..."

He whimpered again, but Rodney nodded, moving his hands against skin—slowly, carefully, tentatively.

John arched into each touch, making encouraging sounds, praising Rodney, panting when he found a hot spot. Each time he hesitated, John would put his hands on top of Rodney's guiding him slowly. Together they moved to the buttons on the BDUs John was wearing. The bulge had gotten bigger as Rodney had touched. John was aroused, wanted this. Wanted him.

Rodney wanted John to be happy, wanted to please him. But it was John who pushed down his own BDUs and boxers; John who brought Rodney's hand to his cock, arching into the touch that wasn't his own.

"OhGod ohgodohgod, Rodney..." John thrust a few times into Rodney's hand, whimpering softly. "Make me come, let me come, need you, Rodney, need you so much..."

Rodney finally looked up, seeing the abandon and need on John's face and knowing what would give him completion.

With a soft cry, John was coming in Rodney's hand, his whole body jerking with it, spilling across Rodney's chest and stomach, marking him. He leaned forward afterwards, sprawling across Rodney, breathing hard. "Needed you."

Nodding his understanding, Rodney let his arms encircle John—carefully, cautiously. He didn't want to do anything wrong.

John hummed softly, snuggling in a little closer. "Love you."

Rodney didn't answer—couldn't answer. After everything, he still felt Kolya's hands on him, still heard his voice. He had hoped John would be able to drive the memories away.

Lifting his head, John looked at him with an open expression—love, understanding, compassion, desire all rolled into one. "Hey. You all right?"

He shook his head after a minute, hating himself.

John's hand came up to cup Rodney's face, expression still understanding. "It will take time. But it will get better. Would it help if I go get the other bed, give you some space?"

"No…just want to forget."

Nodding, John pressed his lips into the corner of Rodney's mouth. "You will. I promise. We'll find a way to make you forget. Together."

"I can still feel him…hear him…" Rodney shuddered, closing his eyes.

"I know." John's other hand started to caress Rodney's chest gently. "But you've only been back a short time. Stick with me, okay? Every day will give it a little more distance, make it a little easier to ignore."

Rodney nodded, needing to believe, wanting to believe as John's fingers dipped into the come on Rodney's chest—John's—slowly making patterns with it.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I'm doing the same thing. I just have the advantage of being a few weeks ahead of you. Some nights, especially, it's harder. But mostly when I'm alone. I won't make you go through this alone. I'm here for whatever you need, whatever you want."

He nodded again, shifting slightly on the bed. John knew what to do. John would take care of things.

"All right, we're both a little sticky and sweaty. Up for a shower and a change of clothes?"

Rodney nodded. Whatever John wanted.

With an encouraging smile, John slipped off the bed and tugged Rodney along with him. He started the water and found a clean set of scrubs, and an extra set of BDUs Carson kept in the infirmary—he had them in the sizes of everyone who spent considerably amount of time in his care. Then Rodney found himself being stripped and pulled into the water. John's eyes were dark and full of emotion as he started to systematically clean every inch of Rodney's skin.

God. The water felt so good.

John was never out of contact with Rodney's body—either the soft washcloth he was using, his free hand, or both, slid over and over Rodney's skin. "I missed this, too. Missed the quiet time when I could just touch you, know you."

Rodney opened his eyes, tilting his head up toward John. "Missed you."

John captured Rodney's mouth in another kiss, this one wet and dirty. When he pulled back, John grinned slightly. "Now see, times like this, I could use the laai. We could love each other all night long."

"Laai?"

"One of the drugs I was given regularly by Ashira. The pria was the addictive one, the one that made me feel really good..." John trailed off for a moment, then shook himself slightly. "Sorry, I still get cravings every now and then. They aren't as bad now. Anyway. laai was the other one. No matter how many times you come, you get hard again almost immediately. Almost everyone in the court used that one."

"Mmm," Rodney said wanting John's touches to wash away Kolya's.

Smiling, John went back to washing and touching and kissing, until they were both starting to get a little wrinkled. "As much as I hate to end this, if we don't get out of the water, we're going to start shriveling."

Nodding, Rodney let John lead him from the shower and dry him off, dressing him in scrubs when he was done before leading him back into the other room.

They approached the bed and John picked up a small slip of paper, blushing bright red before handing it to Rodney. "Um, oops?"

Rodney took it, reading the short note.

_Next time lock the door._

_-c_

Ah…whoops.

John wrapped his arms around Rodney from behind, resting his head on his shoulder. "Well, at least it was Carson and we didn't scar anyone else for life. Although you're pretty hot when you're aroused like that—even more than usual—so instead of scarring them, I'd probably have to beat them off with sticks."

"Wonder what he saw," Rodney said after a minute, trying to think back to what they'd done.

"Either me blowing you, or coming all over you. Either way, mostly my back and the noises we were making I'd guess."

Rodney nodded, leaning back into John. It was late—or so he thought—but he wasn't tired.

John tilted his head so his nose was buried in Rodney's neck. He tightened his arms, pulling Rodney closer. "I'm looking forward to when Beckett releases you from the infirmary. Privacy—it's a wonderful thing. Then I can take my time and really make you fly."

"When? Do…do you know when?"

"He hasn't told me. We can ask him tomorrow though if you'd like."

Rodney nodded. "Please."

"I'll make a point of it." John nuzzled a little, pressing his lips into Rodney's skin. "Did you eat dinner?"

Rodney took a few moments to think back. "I'm…maybe."

John's huff of laughter was warm. "Get comfortable. I'll see if I can't get us a snack."

"Okay." Once John untangled himself and headed out of the room, Rodney moved to the bed noticing the clean sheets and the freshly made bed. He climbed up on top and shoved his feet under the covers. He was still cold, but not as bad as when he'd been with Kolya. And here he had John.

That made everything right.

***

Carson had simply wanted to check in on Rodney before he headed to bed for the night.

He had not expected to see that.

No friend should see his friend on the receiving end of a blowjob. Actually…on either end of a blowjob.

He'd stumbled back out and taped a note on the door: "Do Not Disturb".

He'd gone back about an hour later, cautiously opening the door a hair to hear the water running in the bathroom. At least he'd be able to change the sheets for Rodney and leave them a note.

And then once John came out, he'd have a very pointed conversation with the man.

What was he thinking?

The object of his ire slipped out, and apparently didn't see Carson as he headed for the infirmary doors.

Carson stepped out of his office, calling out quietly. "John?"

Sheppard jumped, whirling in mid air. "Fuck. Carson, you scared the shit out of me. When did you learn to move that quietly?"

"I've had a good teacher," Carson replied evenly. "Have a minute?"

"Sure. I was actually going to track you down later. Rodney asked me to ask you when he could be released. I know not immediately, but I promised I would ask." John sauntered into Carson's office and draped himself over a chair. He was more relaxed than Carson had seen him since they'd got him back.

Carson sat down, thinking his office door closed. He waited a beat before taking a breath. "What in the bloody hell were you thinking?"

John blinked. "Huh? Well, sometimes knowing when you're going to be released helps, and I honestly didn't think it would hurt to promise I would ask..."

"Did you not get my note? Were you not thinking? You couldn't have been thinking if what I saw was any indication of what went on in that room tonight."

"Oh. That." John turned bright red.

"Oh, that. Yes, you bloody git. That! We haven't even begun to scratch the surface of what he's thinking—since he's barely speaking—and you go and do…that!"

"I didn't plan to seduce him! When I got there he was meditating with Teyla and she left and I took her place. We sat there for a while quiet, and he was even smiling a little. Next thing I knew we were kissing, and he asked me to touch him, and God, Carson, I haven't had sex in weeks! It was more temptation than I could handle!"

Carson's gaze hardened. "He asked you to touch him? He has'na said more than ten words and he's barely even asked a question unless prompted."

"To you! He talks to me!" John slumped in the chair. "You don't honestly think I would have done something he didn't want, forced it on him? I know he won't let anyone else close, but he isn't pushing me away. I'd think you would be happy about that, that he's not completely isolating himself."

"John, he hasn't said no to anything."

"Give me a little credit. We're lovers, Carson—before anything else he's my partner, and if this is what he needs to help him feel normal, forget that fucking bastard's hands on his body, I'm going to give it to him."

Carson sighed. "John, he's not in his right mind. He might not even know what he wants or needs. Should I even start to tell you what the tox screen showed?"

John sighed. "No, you probably shouldn't or I might lose my temper again. But you can't ask me not to touch him. I can't even not touch random Marines right now, asking me to avoid the one person I really need is tantamount to torture."

"I’m not asking you not to touch him," Carson said, sighing again, some of his anger getting replaced by exhaustion. "I just…you need to take into account that Rodney might not be able to tell you 'no' right now."

John bowed his head. "I'm trying, Carson. I really am. I don't want to hurt him. But when he asks me to make him forget Kolya's touch, his hands on his body—I'm not strong enough to say no."

"I just don't want to add to whatever…issues he's going to have to deal with."

"Believe me, I don't either. The last thing I want is to make it harder for him. You think I haven't noticed that right now he'd probably jump off one of the piers if I asked him to? I'm scared out of my mind that I'm going to do something to make it worse for him, but I can't do nothing either."

"Let's not test that theory," Carson said with a shake of his head. "It should be getting better as the drugs leave his system, but some of his responses and thoughts have been conditioned. Tread lightly, John. That's all I'm saying."

"I will. But...that was always part of our relationship. If you want to get him back to normal... I promise I'll take it slow, and believe it or not, I can tell the difference between someone doing something because they want to, and because they feel like they have to. I won't let it get that far."

Carson nodded. "And one other request."

"Yeah?" John looked at him through his eyelashes.

"No more sex in the infirmary."

Sheppard flushed again. "No promises. If you need to keep him here for a while..."

"No, John. No sex. Period. This is an infirmary and anyone could have walked in. What if it had been Colonel Caldwell?"

"Caldwell isn't here right now, and no one who doesn't already know about Rodney and I would walk into his private room without knocking. Speaking of which, when is the Colonel scheduled to arrive? That won't be a fun briefing."

"Soon. I don't know an exact date."

"Great. And he'll have gotten the mission reports transmitted to him before he even gets here. He's gonna love how I spent that month off." Shaking himself, John stood up. "But I can worry about that later. Right now, I need to get a snack for Rodney and then get some sleep. And you should do the same. You look exhausted."

"I plan to." Carson stood, looking at John for a moment. "I know you're trying to help, but please take it easy. And no sex in my infirmary. I donna want to walk in on that again."

One corner of John's mouth curved up in a smirk. "Come on, we're hot together. If I wouldn't get discharged for it, we could so make a fortune making porn."

"Think of that when you retire," Carson said, purposely not thinking about what he'd seen. "I’m serious, lad."

"I'll try. That's about the best I can promise right now." John patted him on the shoulder. "I'm swinging by the mess for sandwiches. Want me to make you one, too?"

"No, thank you. But try and get him to sleep at a decent time. I know it'll take a few days to get him adjusted again, but any bit will help."

"I will. I'm exhausted too, so after I make sure he eats, I'll probably pass out. Good night Carson, and sorry if we scarred you for life."

"There are some things no man should walk in on. That is one of them," Carson said, gesturing for John to precede him out of his office.

"Depends on the man." John smirked again, swishing his hips suggestively as he walked for the door.

Carson just shook his head. "What is it with you and exhibitionism? And did you know I'd walked in?"

The smirk turning into a sheepish grin, John shrugged. "I don't know. I just like it. And actually, no. I didn't even hear the door open. I didn't know until we found the note after we showered."

Rolling his eyes, Carson waved his hands. "Go ahead. I'm going to check on Rodney while you're gone."

"Be easy on him, Carson. I won't be gone long." With a sloppy salute, John slipped out the door.

"Aye. As if I wouldn't be, you bloody git. Some of us know better…" Carson grumbled, knocking lightly on the door before opening it. Rodney was seated on the bed he'd remade, huddled under the covers.

"Rodney, lad, how are you doing? I just ran into John. Since he's getting you both sandwiches, I thought I'd pop in to say good night."

Rodney nodded, his eyes staying with Carson a little longer before sliding away.

Interesting. Carson leaned against the bed, but made no attempt to touch the other man. "John also mentioned that you were asking when you would be released. Is that correct?"

He nodded again. "Yes."

"Good. Well, the short answer is 'I don't know yet'. Assuming you continue to improve at the same pace, and you start opening up a bit to Kate or myself, I'll probably release you to your room in the next few days. I want to wait until I'm sure the drug you were given is completely out of your system, but then we'll talk, okay?"

A disappointed expression crossed Rodney's face for a minute before he nodded. "Okay."

"You want to be released sooner? I know I'm not the best company, but if you can give me a good reason, I won't promise anything, but I'll take it into account."

Rodney shook his head, arms crossing over his chest, hugging himself.

Carson sighed to himself—two steps forward, one back. "I'm not keeping you here to punish you, lad. I want to make sure you'll be okay once I do turn you loose again. I promise, I'll get you to your room, at least, as soon as I can. I know you'll be more comfortable there."

"I understand."

Standing, Carson knew he needed to go lie down soon, before he fell asleep on his feet. "I'll leave you for the evening then. Jennifer is the night nurse on duty tonight if you need anything. And John will be back shortly with a snack—try to eat some if you can. And try to sleep. I know you're still turned around a bit, but the more you can rest during the night, the faster we can get you situated."

"I know," Rodney nodded. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my friend. I'll pop in tomorrow morning to see how you made out. Sleep well."

Rodney nodded again as Carson turned and headed out, talking with Jennifer briefly, giving her strict orders to contact him if anything happened. Anything at all.

With a sigh he headed for his room. If he was lucky, he would get in a few solid hours of sleep before another emergency reared its ugly little head.

***

John straightened his clothing for what felt like the millionth time, earning another smirk from Lorne. Colonel Stephen Caldwell had docked two nights ago and was now caught up on the mission reports.

And wanted to talk to John and Evan, presumably about John’s captivity. Fuck.

When they were called into the room Caldwell used as an office, John took in the man’s pinched expression—yeah, this was going to be bad. He sat in the chair next to his second, which was just far enough away that John couldn’t even push their feet together for a little contact.

Oh yeah, this was really bad.

“Colonel. You wanted to see us?” John decided his best bet was to try for cool.

"I was going over some of the mission reports, and I have to say, Colonel, that you certainly run into some…unique situations."

"Yeah, that's Pegasus for you—never a dull moment." John was always careful with Caldwell—he had to walk a fine line between addressing a superior officer, and the fact that at the end of the day, Atlantis was still John's command, not his.

"You're not back to full duty yet."

"No, sir. While I've been cleared for certain light duties, Doctors Beckett and Heightmeyer haven't cleared me for full active duty yet. I'm hoping that will change soon." He was getting a lot better—even more so since Rodney had returned and needed John to be the strong one again. The only real sticking point was that he still had the occasional craving for pria, and he still sought touch actively. Although in the case of the latter, it was more because, after years of being touch-starved by his own making, John had discovered he really, really liked the casual connections. He was limiting to the people he trusted now, and not everyone, but with those few, if he was in the same room with them, he was happier when he was in contact of any kind.

"And it seems that the rest of your team got into similar situations." Caldwell glanced up from the pages in his hand. "How exactly did this happen?"

Raising an eyebrow, John nodded at the reports. "If you've read them, you already know the answer to that. We were ambushed and taken captive by a superior force. Our team was split up, and we had to rely on Major Lorne to come to the rescue." John knew that if Caldwell really wanted to, he could make John's life very hard—DADT went out the window when it came to POW stuff, but still...

"Yes, he did. Good thing, too, isn't it?"

"He did an excellent job, both running the base and refusing to give up on his missing people, yes. You'll note I've made the recommendation that an acknowledgement be added to his official record for a job well done." Out of the corner of his eye, John caught Evan's startled glance in his direction, but otherwise the other man was still and quiet.

"Yes. I saw." Caldwell's voice was distant. He was looking for something, but John wasn't biting. He continued a moment later. "Have you fully ascertained the damage from Doctor McKay's incarceration by the Genii?"

For a brief moment, John wondered if Caldwell would be interested in bombing the hell out of that planet—Elizabeth still had it locked out of the dialing computer here, and no one was letting him get close enough to the controls to try and undo it, afraid he would make another attempt to go after Kolya. He wouldn't rule it out. "Some. We have the notes McKay made and Doctor Parrish recovered, as well as the testimony of the captured guard. McKay himself is remembering more every day, as the drug he was given works its way out of his system. Radek's talked to him several times, trying to work through the notes he left in the books, but it's hard with the remains of the drugs. According to Doctor Beckett, there are only very small traces left, and those should be gone in the next day or two."

"Yes. But how much did Lorne's team leave behind. That's the real question and the one we have to be the most concerned about."

"If you're concerned, let's load up a jumper onto the Daedalus and go wipe out the facilities on the planet. Make sure there's nothing to be concerned about."

"Doctor Weir approved a follow-up mission with another strike-team after McKay was retrieved. She also gave us the coordinates of the planet and we diverted our course to investigate. There was nothing left except a few overturned labs and blood stains on the concrete. The bodies and any information that may have been left behind was gone." He leaned forward, elbows perched on the desk. "We don't know what they managed to get out of Doctor McKay and he hasn't been very forthcoming on that particular subject."

John stiffened, a heartfelt 'Fuck' making it out before he could stop it. So that's why Lorne had been so adamant that there was nothing to find on that planet. He'd already gone back over it with a fine-toothed comb—and failed to mention that part.

Caldwell's eyebrow rose. "And I've been told that Doctor McKay won't be up for an official debrief anytime soon. So I'll ask the question again: have you fully ascertained the damage from Doctor McKay's incarceration?"

Forcibly getting control on his temper, John took a deep breath, digging his own fingers into his thigh to help focus. He could get angry later. "From the notes and what McKay has been able to tell us, Kolya wanted a nuke. One was built and tested, but it was only a prototype. They might have some partial information, but McKay worked mostly alone, and Lorne's team recovered the bulk of his notes—the science team has looked them over and verified that while there might be some information missing, it isn't much."

"But now they have the materials list and the blueprints to build one themselves."

"Materials list possibly. But we recovered the blueprints. Without McKay, there just really isn't much they can do. Odds are good what little they escaped with," he spit out the word escaped—god damnit if they had just let him go through the gate and wipe that smug fucker off the face of the universe before he disappeared again, "wasn't anything they didn't already have."

"And what about Atlantis? What did he reveal about Atlantis while he was under the influence of the Genii drugs?"

"Apparently not much. Kolya wasn't interested in the city, sir. He was interested in weapons and fucking with McKay's head. In time, probably, he would have started grilling him on other things but he hadn't had complete control of Rodney long enough to move beyond his nuclear program."

Caldwell leaned back in his chair, disbelief on his face. "So you say."

John dug his fingers into his thigh again and mentally recited all the reasons losing his cool in front of Caldwell was a bad idea. "What else would you like me to say, sir? I attempted to go after Kolya shortly after discovering who had held McKay, but it was decided that wasn't a...good idea. All I have to go by are the same documents you've seen and the intel McKay has been able to give us."

"Which even you have to admit isn't much. We're working blind here and the very safety of Atlantis rests on the fact that people think it's destroyed—or did you happen to conveniently forget that fact?"

"No, sir, I haven't forgotten that. If you have any suggestions as to a course of action, I'd love to hear them."

"It's your job to make sure the city is protected, Sheppard."

"I'm painfully aware of that, Colonel. But as you so duly noted I'm not back on full active duty, and my ability to access Atlantis systems has been temporarily restricted until I am. So unless you have something constructive to offer, I think this meeting is just about over." And okay, he was crossing the line, but he was furious and needed to get out of there before he lost it again.

"Are you relinquishing your command, Colonel?"

John narrowed his eyes, pausing as he stood up. "I'm pretty sure that's not what I said. Sir."

Caldwell was silent as John and Lorne left, but Sheppard could feel his eyes on his back the entire way out the door.

John was surprised when, as soon as they were out of Caldwell's sight, Lorne grabbed his arm—a bit painfully—and dragged him into one of the unused offices. "Shit! Evan, what the hell?"

"Why is he gunning at you and McKay? Is there something going on that I don't know about? I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

John started pacing, trying to work out some of his anger and frustration, both at Caldwell and at the fact that Kolya was gone again and there was no telling when he would pop back up. "He was the one they wanted to give command of Atlantis to when we re-established contact with Earth. Elizabeth is the only reason I'm still in command here, and it pisses him off. If he can find any reason whatsoever to have me removed, the SGC will put him in charge in a heartbeat."

"Okay," Lorne said, nodding. "Makes sense. How do we make sure that doesn't happen?"

John blinked at his second, and took a moment to thank whomever was listening for giving him Lorne as an XO. "Right now? Making sure I don't run into him again until I work through being pissed as hell at losing Kolya again. After that, we file a report that makes it painfully clear we've done absolutely everything possible to ensure Atlantis remains secure. The SGC might not like my command style, but as long as I don't actually make any truly stupid mistakes, they can't do anything about it. Not as long as Elizabeth is backed by the IOA and I'm her first choice for commander."

Lorne nodded again. "I can play interference with Caldwell. I'm technically still in command until you're back on duty." He paused, making a face. "But someone will need to debrief Doctor McKay—and soon."

"As long as he's still in the infirmary, Caldwell can't get to him without Beckett's permission. I'll talk to him and Kate and see if they can give me an ETA as to when Rodney will be up to a full debrief. You're right—if we can include that in the final report sent to the SGC, they'll have less room for complaints."

"Yes. McKay's been back for five days now?" At John's nod he continued. "They expect something—so anything you can get would be helpful."

"He's given us a lot, it's just been unofficial. He is talking more to people other than me now, and while he's still hesitant, he's a little more himself every day. Maybe we can arrange for a video briefing—just one or two of us in the room, and record it or broadcast it to the conference room for you, Elizabeth, and Carson, since I'm assuming it would be me and Kate who would question him."

"As long as it's recorded it would be something, but also make sure everything that he gives Doctors Heightmeyer and Beckett are appropriately noted and filed. Have them go back and give you transcripts of any sessions where information was provided. Block out the medical or personal parts. We need to establish a paper trail."

John took a deep breath. Lorne was right. He had more important things to do right now than throw a temper tantrum. "Right. They already have the paperwork in his files, I'll have them prep copies for non-medical use. That will give us a starting point, and give us a back trail starting with the first night McKay was home. In the meantime, I'll see about getting myself back on active duty. We might as well remove one of the bullets from Caldwell's gun if we can."

"I can help you evade, sir. Part of the job," Lorne offered a smile. "We've been doing our job, but not as…by the book as the Colonel likes. We just have to show him that we know what we're doing and we're getting the job done."

John snorted. "I hate by the book. It's one of the reasons I've gotten into so much trouble over the course of my career. But if the SGC needs us to prove that we know what we're doing, then fine, we will. After this I'll head down to the infirmary and see what I can arrange. I'll keep you updated."

"Good, sir." He moved to walk away, but paused as another thought came to mind. A single pointer finger came up, hand gesturing as he spoke. "Remember one thing, sir. As long as we give them the reports they want, they really can't fault the methods. File everything promptly and accurately and they have no reason to complain."

John couldn't help grinning. "You're just tired of all my paperwork backlogs."

Lorne shrugged, returning the smile. "Maybe. But if it gets Caldwell off our backs…"

"Yeah yeah. I'll make a point of at least doing the critical stuff on time, how's that? The shit paperwork, I make no guarantees about."

"Don't come yelling at me if Caldwell catches you on a technicality."

"Hell, if he could have me removed from command on a technicality, he would have done it already. He needs more than that. But I'll be on my best behavior when he's here." John grinned then headed out the door. He tossed the parting shot over his shoulder. "Mom."

He heard Lorne's groaning chuckle as the doors closed, his feet taking him to the infirmary and McKay. He was better, he was. Even Kate and Carson said so. But it was achingly slow. He wasn't jumping at everyone's touches, but he tended to be…clingy, at least to John. And as for speaking up for himself or asking for things he wanted—that was going to take a much longer period of time.

John slipped in, seeing them both by Rodney's bed, and figured he could catch them all at the same time, gauge the general reaction. "Just the people I wanted to see. Hey, Rodney, how are you doing?"

Rodney's face lit up as soon as he saw John, eyes tracking him as he walked through the room, clasping John's hand tightly as soon as he was close enough. "Better now."

John smiled softly at him, rubbing a thumb over the back of Rodney's hand. "Good to hear. Better than me then. I just came from a briefing with Caldwell."

"Aye," Carson said, leaning his hip against the bed. "And what did he want? He's been sniffing down here so I have a pretty good idea."

John rolled his eyes. "Same thing he always wants, Pinky... my head on a platter. I need to be put back on full, active duty ASAP. And," he focused on Rodney, "we need to get a full debrief from Rodney as soon as possible. I was thinking—maybe we could do a video briefing, just me and Kate in the room? That might make it a little easier."

Rodney was already shaking his head, his whisper desperate. "Please, no."

John squeezed his hand. "If you aren't ready for it, we can put it off a little longer. But we'll need to do one, Rodney. The video method would be easier on you than facing a room full of people."

"John is right, Rodney," Kate said, her voice quiet. "We don't have to do it right this minute, but it does need to be done. It might help you work through some of what happened to you as well. It would help me and Carson, too. The guard's information, while helpful, is limited." She shifted, putting her hand on Rodney's other arm and John was happy when his lover didn't jump. Progress. "You don't have to decide now, but please think about it."

John smiled, still rubbing small circles on the back of Rodney's hand. "And you won't have to do it alone. I'll be right there with you, and we can take as many breaks as you need."

Carson shot him a look, his expression shouting "Careful!"

"Don't decide now. Take your time and let John know what you decide. Okay?" Kate said, her voice warm, kind.

"I'll…think about it."

John backed off, nodding. "That's all I ask." He looked back up at Kate and Carson, changing the subject to take the focus off his lover for a minute. "What about me? The two of you have been cagey about when you'll fully clear me."

Carson and Kate exchanged a quick look between the two of them. "We haven't made that decision yet," Carson finally answered.

John raised an eyebrow. "What are you waiting for? I'm better, right? I mean, I know I still have a few issues to work though, but it's not nearly as bad as it was when I was brought home."

"Kate and I need to confer on several points before we can make that decision, John."

Fighting the urge to sigh, John finally nodded. "All right. It's just making it damn difficult to deal with Caldwell. Lorne is doing an excellent job, but he's not me."

"We understand, but we're also not going to release you from medical care unless we're comfortable with the decision," Kate said, her eyes drifting to the scientist who was noticeably tensing. "Did you eat lunch yet, Rodney?"

He shook his head after a minute, eyes fixed somewhere past Kate into the room.

"Rodney?" John refocused on his lover, wondering what had caused the reaction. "Everything okay?"

When he didn't answer, John glanced up at Kate, seeing a quiet sadness. "He's thinking, I believe," she finally answered. "He started doing that a little yesterday during our afternoon session."

Sighing, John squeezed Rodney's hand slightly. "But he is doing better, right? That's not a bad sign..."

Kate shrugged. "We need to see where it goes." She paused, her hand moving to lightly touch Rodney's cheek. "Rodney? What are you thinking about?"

John shifted so he could rest his free hand on Rodney's leg, hoping the touch would help ground the other man.

"Want to finish my equations."

"Which ones?" John held his breath for the answer. Please not the ones for Kolya... Please...

Rodney shook his head slightly. "Feel like they're clogging up my head. Need to get them out."

John caught Kate's eye. "Would it hurt anything to give him a pad and pen?"

"No. He's written a few down for us before," she said, turning to grab a pad, but Carson already had it at the ready. She placed it on his knee, putting the pencil in his hand. "Here you go, Rodney."

John watched as his lover scribbled page and after page of numbers. John was able to follow some of it, but not most of it. After about twenty minutes, he finally seemed to stutter to a halt. "Rodney?"

He was staring at the pencil in his hand, a light smile on his face. "I wanted one of these. Always had to sharpen the one I was using."

"Yeah? That must have been pretty annoying." He handed the book to Carson. "Mind if we give these to Radek? He has the rest of your notes, too."

"I'd write until I fell asleep."

Looking up, John caught both Carson and Kate making discreet motions for him to encourage Rodney to keep talking. "All equations? Or other things too?"

"Whatever I thought of. Mostly equations, calculations. They…they filled my head."

"What kinds of equations? I understood a little of what you were just writing, but I'd like to know more."

John carefully settled next to Rodney on the bed, the other man's eyes still focused somewhere in the middle of the room. His attention was focused internally instead. "Bombs…energy curves…quantum theory…the bombs are the most fun…makes things explode…" Rodney trailed off for a moment, a light smile on his face, before continuing. "A lot of the equations were for energy…energy requirements. It all fluctuates based on what materials you have."

"So how did you account for that? How did you fix the fluctuations?"

Rodney's hand gestured, fingers wiggling. "Wrote it down."

John caught his hand and pressed a kiss into the center of the palm. "How many notebooks did you go through? Do you remember?"

"A lot. Toward the end…when Kolya…when Kolya left me by myself…one a day….sometimes more."

John had no idea exactly how many notebooks Parrish had managed to recover. "That's a lot of equations floating around in that brain of yours."

Rodney shrugged. "Usual. Easier…easier to contain usually."

"That's what makes you my genius." John smiled. "But we'll get it back under control. In no time at all you'll be back to only needing them when you want them and not all the time."

Some of the tension was leaving Rodney's body, his eyes beginning to focus once again, zoning in on where their hands were joined. "I know," he said quietly, squeezing John's hand.

John pulled their combined hands up to kiss Rodney's fingers again. "Welcome back."

Rodney's gaze had followed the progression of his hand before lifting to look at John, a smile growing on his face. It was amazing when all of Rodney's attention was focused on a single location—just like now.

John's breath caught, need spiking through him unexpectedly. He had been careful not to let things go very far again per Carson's wishes, but... That smile, those eyes, all that focus... it made him want, badly. "Rodney..."

"Hmm?"

Carson's hand squeezing his arm jolted John back, glancing up to catch Beckett's embarrassed warning glare and Kate's amused smirk. He closed his eyes briefly. "I can't wait until I can get you into a private room again."

"Lunch, gentlemen?"

"Sounds good to me. Any turkey sandwiches on the menu?" John shifted so more of their bodies were pressed together—it was the best they were going to get right now. "What are you in the mood for, Rodney?"

He shrugged, eyes refusing to budge from John's. "Food."

Biting his lower lip, John felt himself getting sucked back in. "Food is good. I bet the kitchen has Twinkies."

"John, why don't you go and grab something?" Carson asked, his voice breaking in. "I want to get a few blood samples from Rodney and give him a quick check."

"Hmmm?" John leaned forward slightly, intent on Rodney's mouth. He wanted to lick it, dive inside it. The rest of the world paled in comparison to the lure of those crooked lips.

"Colonel!" This time Carson's voice was close, his hand squeezing John's arm. "Lunch. Now."

He nearly jumped off the bed. This was why they wouldn’t let him back on full, active duty. He was still too easily distracted, especially when it came to Rodney. "Shit! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" John glared a little, but reluctantly slid to his feet. "Spoil sport. I was just going to kiss him."

"And all of us know exactly where that leads," Carson said, rolling his eyes. Kate was amused, hiding her grin behind her hand.

"Hmph." John squeezed Rodney's hand one last time before pulling away, turning to leave. He opened his mouth to say he wouldn't be long when he froze, staring through the door at a small bowl of purple fruit sitting on a lab table. Pria. Oh god, why did they have that here....

"John?"

He drew in several gulps of breath, eyes not leaving the samples. Intellectually, he knew they were probably here for testing, that it would have been foolish for Atlantis not to bring some back for that purpose, especially since he was hooked on it. It was one thing to know it on an abstract level, it was another to be staring at it, to know just a few steps and he could touch it, taste it again. Fuck. He forced his eyes closed, body shaking. "Take it away, hide it, before I do something we'll all regret."

Carson cursed quietly and then John heard him storming out. Kate's hand was on him turning him toward Rodney. "Breathe, John."

He was shaking hard, fighting against every instinct that told him he should go, get it, before Carson locked it down, hid it away again. God damnit he thought he was past this! He panted, trying to tear his thoughts away from that vicious cycle, trying to distract himself. "So I guess this would be one of the reasons you won't clear me yet, huh? Still have powerful cravings when confronted with the god damn drug I was addicted to. Still addicted to apparently."

"One of them, yes," Kate said quietly as Rodney's hand finally found his again.

"John?" The voice was small, timid.

"Rodney. Hey, buddy... " He opened his eyes, forcing himself to focus. "I'll... I'll be all right. Just... wasn't expecting to see that... didn't really expect it to hit me that hard..."

"Sorry about that, John," Kate said. "I'll give you a minute." A swish of clothing and she was gone.

John sat on the edge of the bed, then gave in and curled into Rodney's body, soaking in the warmth. He knew his lover had no idea what had just happened. "S..sorry. Pria... there was a bowl of them, in the lab. I... still want it. It's gotten easy to ignore most of the time now. But seeing it so close... at least I retained enough control not to go after it."

Rodney's arms slid around him, tugging him closer. "Different than the laai. Right?"

John smiled, pressing his face into his lover's chest. "Yeah. Laai isn't addictive and everyone used it. The pria though... that was used only on slaves like me... like I was. Erased everything but pleasure, the need to have more, to be touched, to be fucked, kissed, caressed." He shuddered as need ran through him. "Felt so damn good... and I know I shouldn't want it anymore, not supposed to want it, but..."

"But it felt good."

John nodded, not raising his head. "No cares, no worries, nothing but pleasure. That was my entire life... And I don't want to go back, I really don't. I like my life here, with you, Atlantis. But physically... it was..."

"It's okay if you like it better."

Lifting his head to look Rodney in the eye, John tightened his grip on Rodney's hand. "No. I don't like it better. It was a drug, like any other drug. Yes, it made me feel fucking fantastic, but it's not and never will be you. The cravings... they're a physical reaction, an addiction, not something I choose over you. And when it comes down to it, I did make a choice. I choose to resist it, to turn around and come to you rather than dive for the bowl."

Rodney held his gaze for a long moment and John, for a brief moment, felt like he'd finally gotten through, that Rodney had actually heard him and understood him. He nodded finally, squeezing John's hand back.

Leaning in, John pressed a soft kiss to Rodney's lips before settling back down in his lover's arms. They stayed that way, tangled together, until he finally felt like he was in control again. He heard the door open, and two sets of footfalls approaching. Lifting his head, he smiled a bit weakly at Kate and Carson. "Sorry about that."

Carson shot a glance at Kate before replying. "It's not a problem, John. You okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Took me by surprise, but... I'm okay now. At least I managed to resist it, that has to count for something, right?"

"It does," Carson said. "And we were talking about lunch I believe."

"Right. Lunch. Turkey sandwiches." He started to sit up, a little reluctant to leave the comforting press of Rodney's skin, but knowing he needed to go get the food.

"Good. Kate's going to walk down with you to grab something as well." Carson's tone didn't bode any argument.

John nodded again, pulling his clothes straight and shooting an encouraging look at Rodney. "I won't be long."

"I'll be here," Rodney said, offering a nod and smile.

With a deep breath, John gathered himself and walked out, Kate by his side. A quick glance showed no trace of the pria. "How far back did that set me?"

"Not as far as I thought it would," she answered quietly.

He shot her a sharp glance.

She raised an eyebrow in response.

He stopped in his tracks. "You planted them there."

She shrugged, continuing to walk. "I needed to see your reaction."

He tried to work up anger, but found he was more curious than anything, much to his surprise. "And? How did I do?"

"You held yourself back even though you wanted it. That was a good thing. And it didn't take you long to get yourself back under control."

"How does that compare to what you expected?"

"I was hopeful we wouldn’t have to pull you away from the bowl, but I wasn't counting on that not happening."

He was quiet for a long moment. "You realize if I had gone for it, odds are I would have managed to eat at least one before you could have stopped me."

"I knew that."

Unconsciously, he licked his lips. "It was a close thing. If Rodney hadn't been there... If I didn't know how badly that would have set him back..."

"It's a balancing act, isn't it?"

"Will it ever get any easier? Or am I going to freeze up every time I see a small purple fruit for the rest of my life. I know some addicts have to go to meetings every day until they die..."

"That depends entirely on you, John. We can only help you as much as you allow us to. Most of the work comes from you." She paused before stepping into the mess. "I know that your…situation is unique and that you need to be strong and things aren't…ideal right now. But let him help you—at least as much as he can."

Staring after her for a moment, he blinked in surprise. Huh. That was... hopeful. That meant that, together, maybe he and Rodney really would be okay in time. Taking comfort from that, he followed her into the mess, a small smile playing around his lips.

***

Evan sat back and scrubbed his hand across his eyes before glancing at the clock. Late, but not too late. He saved the report he was working on and closed the computer, engaging the password protection.

Standing, he started for the labs. Caldwell was leaving tomorrow, after a hellish week of trying to catch Sheppard in something while Lorne ran interference. Despite that, they were making progress. McKay had given his taped debrief to the senior staff and his doctors, and now Evan just needed a few more details before he could finalize the damn report on the whole thing and go to bed.

The debrief had gone as well as they expected. Rodney had done the best he could, but emotion and fear and humiliation overcame him easily, making him pause to catch his breath, to get himself under control.

Kate thought it was cathartic, that Rodney needed to acknowledge what happened.

Sheppard had thought it was horribly painful. Evan knew that all Sheppard had wanted to do was go and hold his  partner and try to make everything better. It's what Evan would have wanted to do if their positions had been reversed. But he couldn't hold him, so he'd just had to sit and listen and seethe quietly.

Turning a corner, he spotted the man he was looking for, hunched over a device of some kind. “Hey Zelenka, got a minute?”

A finger raised in his direction for a moment before returning to the device.

Looking around, Evan spotted a clear space on a table and hopped up to wait. He knew better than to interrupt a geek at work.

It took Radek about five minutes before he finally nodded, muttering to himself in Czech, and glanced up. "You had question?"

"Yeah. I'm wrapping up the report for the SGC on Sheppard's team's captivity, and I had some questions about the notes Parrish recovered. Can I pull you away for ten minutes to go over them?"

"Yes, yes," Radek nodded, wiping his hands on his lab coat. "Rantings and writings of a madman. Where do you wish to do this?"

Raising an eyebrow, Evan shrugged. "Anywhere is fine. So what did you find? Do we need to be worried about what Kolya might still have?"

"I do not believe so," Radek said, gesturing toward McKay's office as he walked slowly, talking. "We have several notebooks full of equations—some of which we can't even decipher. It seems they continue in another book perhaps, but we do not have it." He shrugged. "Genii science program is not advanced, but not all the scientists are stupid."

"So if they have a few of the notebooks with the other half of the equations, will they be able to backwards-engineer them. McKay said they had a working prototype that was tested."

"Doubtful." Radek waved him toward McKay's desk that was covered with notebooks and papers. He opened a book and flipped through the pages, pointing at an equation. "See here, this is for basic nuclear bomb. Small equation, some yield calculations." He flipped through several more pages. "Here is another piece, in the middle of some other…" his hands waved as he searched for the word, "thing. It is still missing pieces. This I know because I sat with Rodney and went over everything page by page."

"Wait, so he was giving them equations, but not whole ones? And breaking them up so no one else could follow them? Did he do that on purpose?"

"No. I do not believe he did this intentionally. More…stream of consciousness. One thought leads to another and another, and then jumps back when he remembered what he'd started with."

Evan let his eyes drift over the pages and pages of numbers. "Wow. So basically this is what's going on in McKay's head all the time, and whatever drugs they had him on made it come out as-is, instead of letting him focus enough to organize it a bit?"

Radek nodded. "Rodney mentioned something in passing…the drugs were to enhance his clinical mind—which is amazing and beyond some of our own science and medicine—but if these pages are any indication…"

"Then they were enhancing it without focusing it. Genius isn't worth anything if the person in question can't concentrate on anything for more than a minute or two."

"Which is why he wrote everything down. It helped him to concentrate."

"But without him there to make sense of it all, even what the Genii did manage to retain is useless. Huh."

"We hope."

Evan shot him a look. "I'm going for optimism today. Makes us all look better in the report. Is there anything else on a science level that we might need to be concerned about?"

"Hard to say. Some equations Rodney could not decipher."

"He couldn't decipher his own equations?"

"No." Radek shook his head. "Most disturbed by that."

"I can imagine. But that's a good thing, right? I mean, if he can't figure them out, and you can't, the odds of anyone else figuring them out are slim to none."

"Yes yes. Rodney is smartest man in two galaxies. Of course."

Evan rolled his eyes at the tone. "That's not what I meant, Doc. Stop trying to turn this into an insult. Between the two of you, there isn't much you and McKay can't figure out in time. But if neither of you can make sense of McKay's equations, then some Genii without the same level of smarts and basic knowledge to fall back on doesn't stand a chance. Right?"

"We hope."

Evan scowled at him. "Who pissed in your Cheerios today that it's got you in such a bad mood?"

"Did you have other questions?"

Shaking his head, Lorne stood up. "If I do, I'll let you know. I need to have that report ready to go with Caldwell in the morning."

"Good, Major. I will get back to work," he said, closing the notebook with a snap as he rose to his feet.

"Radek? Seriously, is everything okay?" Evan had never seen the other man this... irritated. Usually he was the calm, amused one of the science bunch.

"You try running science department…" He paused, sighing. "I apologize, Major. It has been a long…seven weeks…eight weeks…whatever it is."

Evan smiled a little. "I can sympathize. I'm looking forward to handing control back over to Sheppard. We should have a party when the Docs clear the two of them for active duty again. Go get shit-faced on the mainland to celebrate."

Radek shook his head. "Too much to do."

Evan smiled, clapping the other man on the shoulder. "Not too much longer. Then we can hand over the reins and let them get the ulcers again."

"Good. They need to stop getting injured. I do not wish Rodney's job."

"And I don't want Sheppard's. I'd shoot myself."

"And then there would be paperwork." Radek sighed.

Chuckling, Evan started for the door. "I promise to try and restrain myself. For your sake."

"Good plan, Major. Good plan."

"Try not to stay up too late, Radek. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes, yes," he said, already turning his attention back to the device he'd been working on when Evan arrived.

Still chuckling, Evan started back for his office. With any luck, he could finish that report and go track down David before the botanist was passed out for the night.

They'd had to be very careful with Caldwell stalking through Atlantis, but after tomorrow…after tomorrow Evan planned on having some fun.

He was lost in his own little fantasies until he plowed directly into someone. "Ow, fuck, sorry about that!"

"Just the person I was looking for, Major."

"Colonel Caldwell! Sir! Sorry about that, sir." Evan straightened up, knowing his cheeks were a little red. Hopefully the other man would attribute it to the embarrassment of plowing head-first into a senior officer.

"You might want to watch where you're going next time. I’m looking for Colonel Sheppard."

"Yes sir, I'll keep that in mind for the future. Ah Colonel Sheppard? I haven't seen him lately, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Unless you're Colonel Sheppard, no. Where can I find him?"

Actually, Evan would be surprised if Sheppard wasn't in the infirmary with McKay, but he wasn't going to fess up to that. "Ah, did you try the control room, sir? Or his office?"

"Yes and yes."

Evan didn't like the look he was getting. "Maybe the gym, sir? He trains there sometimes..."

"Where is he, Major?"

"I wish I knew, sir. Unfortunately, the senior staff vetoed my request to outfit him with a tracking collar."

"One suggestion I plan to be implementing for his team in the future," Caldwell said, entirely straight-faced. "Where is he?"

That was both funny and horrifying at the same time. Evan inched backwards a step. "I really need to go, sir. I have to wrap up that report for you before you leave tomorrow. Doctor Zelenka just gave me the last few pieces of science testimony I needed so..."

"Are you avoiding answering the question, Major?"

"Not at all, sir. That would be... pretty stupid of me." Evan was starting to feel a little like hunted prey, the way Caldwell was pacing him backwards, eyes narrowed. This was so not good.

"Yes, it would be," Caldwell said, continuing to advance. "What is he trying to hide?"

"Who, sir? Colonel Sheppard? Nothing that I'm aware of. In fact, if you find him, I'd like to know where he is too—that way I could pass off some of the paperwork. He's been cleared for that much at least."

"Major, I've been here a week and apart from the meeting when I first arrived you have been sidestepping every request I've made to speak with the Colonel and I want to know why."

"Oh, Major. There you are." Radek's voice was just like the sound of angels. "Oh…Colonel. I did not know you were here. I had questions to ask of Major Lorne."

"Doctor Zelenka. Of course, anytime you need me. Colonel? Did you need me for anything else?" Evan prayed he said no, but from the frankly evil gaze he was getting... damn it was almost like Caldwell's eyes were glowing he was so pissed.

"Good. Come this way, Major," Radek said, tugging Evan back into the labs, not even letting Caldwell reply.

As soon as the door was closed, he slumped to the floor. Damn, that had sucked. "I owe you big time."

"I hear you panicking from down the hall. Decide not to throw you to wolves. He will find Colonel Sheppard, yes?"

"Probably not, actually. Given the time of night, Sheppard is probably in the infirmary for the night, and Beckett restricts access unless it's an emergency after 2000 hours."

"Perhaps a call may be…appropriate. Let them know Caldwell's…determination."

"Fuck, you're probably right." Evan hit his radio. "Lorne to Beckett."

It took a moment for Carson to answer and the reply was not as crisp as normal. "Beckett here."

"Hey Doc, sorry to disturb you. But I thought you should know, Caldwell is on the warpath for Sheppard. I don't think he's going to stop tonight until he tracks him down."

"What?" It took a moment and then he heard the curse. "Bloody hell. I'm not there…ow…sorry…" he said after Evan heard a muffled ouch.

"Hey, sorry I woke you up. I'd go down there myself, but Radek just managed to pull me from the fire. If I poke my head out of the labs right now, I'm liable to get it bitten off."

"No, I'll go," Carson said and he heard the shuffle of fabric. "It'll take me a few minutes."

"Thanks." In the background, Evan heard a higher-pitched voice asking what was going on. Oh shit! Cadman was so going to kick his ass. "Ah, sorry again. I'll, ah... Lorne out."

Radek was looking at him and grinning. "Problem?"

Using the wall he was leaning against as leverage, Evan pushed himself up off the floor. "I need to make a mental note never, under any circumstances, to accept an invitation to spar with Cadman."

The Czech's eyes were knowing. "Good plan."

Lorne looked around the lab. "Well, I'm here for a while it seems. Is there anything useful I can do for you? Might as well make good use of the time."

"No. All things that need to be turned on are in other lab."

"Well damn." He glanced around at all the computers. "Any chance I can log into my machine from one of these then? If I can get access to it, I can at least finish that report."

"You break, Rodney will kill you. But go ahead if you wish."

Grinning, Evan sat down. "I'll risk it. He'll owe me anyway if I can keep Sheppard out of the fire while Caldwell's here."

Logging in, it didn't take him long to get immersed in the report again, filling in the last details and finalizing it. When he finally sat up and stretched, he was surprised to realize several hours had gone by. "Radek? You still here?"

"No."

Jumping from his seat, Evan had his weapon drawn and pointed into the shadows before he could blink.

He heard the familiar huff a second before the figure stepped out into the half-light of the lab. "Is that any way to greet me?"

"David." Lowering his weapon, Evan scowled. "You scared the shit out of me."

"You were immersed in your report. I didn't want to bother you," he said, stepping closer. "It safe now?"

Rolling his eyes, Evan holstered the gun. "I could have shot you! I'm ordering a bell for you next time I get leave on Earth."

"No."

"Aw, come on. Just a little one. So I can hear you coming."

"No," David said as he stepped closed, leaning a hip on the desk. "You have to learn how to listen."

Grinning, Evan moved to lean against the same desk, so they were barely touching, but if anyone walked in it could be passed off as casual. "Whatever. I'll get a nice silver one, and a matching chain. It will be delicate and make a nice twinkle noise."

"No." The corner of David's mouth twisted up.

"You can just wear it around Atlantis. You'll be the envy of every geek. Maybe even start a fashion trend. Everyone will wear bells, so the whole lot of you can't sneak anymore." Evan did a very bad impression of a bell.

"I'm nothing like McKay."

"Thank god for that. I don't think the universe could handle two McKays." Chuckling, Evan cocked his head to the side. "So what are you doing up so late wandering around anyway?"

"Looking for you."

"Oh. Well, you found me."

"I did, didn't I?" His mouth twitched again before he took a step away. And then another. He paused before he took the third. "Coming?"

With a wicked grin, Evan followed. "I don't know, am I?"

"Hmm…maybe."

With a laugh, Evan followed the other man through the halls of Atlantis, to his room. Oh yeah, this was most definitely the life.

***

Standing alone in the middle of his quarters on Atlantis, Rodney felt lost.

He'd been back two weeks now. Two weeks of constant monitoring and chats and progress and talks…reminders to eat, to pee…and everything.

Carson had finally given him the okay this afternoon, late afternoon, when John was hip-deep in paperwork that Lorne had refused to do.

He wasn't hungry—he'd eaten lunch a few hours ago. He wasn't tired—been sleeping and resting constantly for two weeks. He didn't need a shower—took one just before Carson let him leave. He wasn't allowed to work—they'd even taken the laptop away.

He didn't know what to do with himself.

He wasn't restricted to his quarters, but where would he go? He hadn't seen many except for a chosen few during his recovery and he was…reluctant to just walk out into the hallways.

There were people there.

So instead, he stood in the middle of his room at a loss for what to do.

The door chimed brightly, announcing that there was someone out there.

It took him a few beats before he moved to the door, pausing before he waved his hand over the door panel.

Teyla and Ronon were both standing outside it. "Ah, Rodney! We thought we would come see how you are settling back in. And see if, perhaps, you would like to take a walk around the city?"

"Ah…" he started, pausing for a second before answering, making sure he put some effort into raising his voice above a whisper. He had to remember it was okay here. "I just got here."

She nodded her head, still smiling. "If you are busy, we can return later."

"I…" Busy? No. He was bored. "No, I'm not busy."

She chuckled. "We know they did not give you much to do, when you are used to going constantly. Perhaps a walk will help? We will avoid the more populated areas if you wish."

He thought for a moment, considering her request. He could say "no" if he wanted. He didn't have to go along, but it would get him out of his room, his empty room. He nodded finally. "I think I'd like that."

She moved to the side to allow him to pass through the doors, then the three of them took an ambling pace through the unpopulated parts of the city. Neither Teyla nor Ronon seemed to really feel the need to talk, but the few people they passed took one look at them and left Rodney alone.

It was…nice.

They moved through the halls and Rodney let the city wash over him. This was home.

They ended up outside, on one of the piers, a faint breeze teasing at all of their hair.

He ended up stopping mid-step and closing his eyes. It had been weeks since he had been outside.

He heard a faint chuckle from both his companions, but otherwise they seemed content to just let him enjoy.

Rodney let the air gust around him, blowing his hair and clothes. Nothing fit right, everything was too big, but that would change since Carson insisted that he eat regularly. For some reason, he had a strange craving for a PowerBar.

After a while, he heard Teyla's voice, low. A quick glance showed she was talking into her radio.

He moved closer. "Everything okay?"

She smiled. "Yes. That was Colonel Sheppard. He stopped by your room, and when you were not there, decided to try calling me to locate you. I informed him that we are simply enjoying the day and would alert him when we head back into the city proper."

"John's okay?"

She nodded. "He is well. Merely bored with paperwork and looking to make sure you were okay as well."

"Oh…okay." Rodney nodded, wrapping his arms around his body.

She smiled again. "He suggested that, if you were up to it, we have a team dinner and movie night. He has even volunteered to bring the popcorn."

"How about ice cream?"

Ronon perked up. "Yeah. Ice cream."

"Did the Daedalus bring any?" Rodney asked as he let Teyla lead him back into the city.

"I am sure we can track some down. If Ronon will agree to walk with you to the lounge, I will go procure dinner... and ice cream."

"I can get there myself."

"Yes, if you would prefer. But I thought perhaps it would be easier with two of you to pry Colonel Sheppard from his paperwork again." Her lips twitched.

Rodney's eyebrow rose in question. "You said you wanted Ronon to walk with me to the lounge. Nothing about talking to John." He stopped in the middle of the hallway. He didn't want to be handled anymore. He could take care of himself. He knew how to get from one place to another. The more they…hovered "Doctor Beckett released me. I'm not going to break apart."

She nodded her head. "We will meet you in the lounge in twenty minutes then, with both dinner and the Colonel."

He nodded, waiting until they were walking away to panic a little before he started to the room they used as a team lounge. It was barely lit, the majority of the room in shadow. They usually kept the lights low because they ended up turning them down to watch the movies. He only got turned around once, but managed to walk in before they arrived. He didn't need their looks, their pity. He could take care of himself.

John was actually the first one to show up—and from the way he looked, a little tired, a little worn—and flopped onto the couch, he hadn't seen Rodney standing in the corner.

Instead of moving into the light, Rodney decided to stay where he was, watching, looking, waiting.

John slumped down a little, his head falling back, his eyes closing. Rodney noticed that he was idly stroking the top of his own thigh with one finger while he waited for everyone else to show up. It didn't strike him as sexual at all, just not something he had never seen John do.

As much as Rodney wanted to move, to go to John, he waited. Something just told him to stay still, stay silent.

And so he waited.

Teyla and Ronon came in a few minutes later with several trays bearing food and snacks and drinks. Rodney slid deeper into the shadows.

"John? Is Rodney not here as well?"

John opened his eyes, shaking his head. "No. I got here a few minutes ago. Everything okay? Is he okay?" As he talked, John sat up, looking worried.

Any other time and Rodney wouldn't have thought anything of John's response. But now…were they expecting him to have a breakdown in the hallway? Did they think he wasn't capable of walking from one point to the next? Did they think he needed a babysitter?

"He insisted on walking here himself," Teyla said, putting the tray down.

From her tone, Rodney knew she wasn't pleased. It was as if she was shifting the blame to him. He could almost hear her thoughts about the pathetic scientist she was forced to watch, to placate, who wouldn't listen to her.

John nodded. "Right. I mean, if I was him, I'd probably be pretty tired of being herded everywhere too, but… he..." Rodney watched him close his eyes, take a deep breath. "Okay, let's give him a few more minutes, then we'll try the radio. I'm sure he's fine, and running off in a panic really won't help anything."

No. Running off in a panic would mean that they wouldn't be here to berate him when he finally arrived.

"I'll find him." Ronon was already headed for the door.

Hmph. Rodney thought. Of course Ronon would be the one sent to "round him up".

"Ronon." John's voice carried a hint of command. "We are not going to turn McKay into a hunted animal. He's already been through enough. If he wants to take his time walking down here, he can."

Too late, Rodney thought. He already was.

"He is still not well, Colonel. Perhaps he has simply lost his way."

Go ahead, Teyla. Rub it in, Rodney thought, his anger rising. So not only was he sick, but he was stupid.

John closed his eyes. "Okay, the two of you are not helping. Just... I'm the fucked up one who panics when McKay goes missing. You're supposed to be the ones who tell me I'm being an ass and I need to back off."

Goes missing? Who said I was even missing? Maybe I changed my mind. But do they think that? No. They go right for the 'he's sick and must be lost or missing'. He wasn't five.

"Did not Doctor Beckett wish us to keep an eye on him?"

Rodney flinched at her tone, her words.

"Keeping an eye on him doesn't mean stalking him through the halls." John flopped back on the couch. "Believe me, I'm panicking more than anyone right now, but I'm also not going to strip away his god damned right to walk around the city by himself if he wants to."

"Even if he took his time, he should have arrived here already."

Apparently, he wasn't allowed to change his mind anymore. He used to all the time. But now…now he was on a leash. Contained. Controlled. They were no better than Kolya or Hadrious.

John glared. "And maybe he decided to stop by his room, or, or something. Just... God, when did I become the voice of reason on this team?"

Rodney let the silence settle over the room before he stepped forward, allowing himself time to shove his…disappointment and anger away. They still didn't trust him to take care of himself. "I think I'm going to call it a night."

Teyla and Ronon both jumped, John just looked relieved. "Rodney! Hey, when did you get here? I was just telling our teammates that you didn't need a babysitter every moment of the day." He moved closer, reaching out to rest a hand on Rodney's arm.

Rodney stepped back. "I've been here. I…I think I'm going back to my room."

John blinked, then his eyebrows went up. He cupped Rodney's face. "So if you were here, you heard that we were worried about you, but we were going to give you a few more minutes before we panicked."

He stepped aside again, away from John's touch. "Yes, but the first thing you all thought of was that I was lost or in need of some kind of help. I'm not an invalid."

"No, you're not. You're our teammate, our friend, and you've been through a hell of a lot. If we really thought you were lost or in need of help, do you think any of us would still be standing here? We would have been out the door in a heartbeat. No, that was us worrying because we care about you, and sometimes it comes out in weird ways. We're soldiers Rodney, protecting the people we care for is part of who we are."

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. It's affection. Caring." He leaned in a little, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Love. I don't pity you, Rodney. I love you, want to take care of you. I always have."

His anger was starting to rise and he wasn't even sure where it was coming from. He was so tired of being…handled. He shoved himself away from John, crossing his arms over his chest. "Just…leave me alone. Right now the three of you…all of you are just smothering me."

John looked hurt, but nodded. "All right. Whatever you need."

"I need…I need to leave right now," Rodney said, anger and confusion and a desperate need to hide away all mixing together as he moved to the door.

"You know where to find me later if you need me." John's voice was quiet.

Rodney didn't bother acknowledging the comment, leaving the lounge behind him as he moved through Atlantis. No one stopped him, no one bothered him. And when he finally stopped moving, he found himself on a balcony, a private balcony, overlooking the city. He was sitting with his back against the wall, legs drawn up to his chest, arms circled around them.

He hated himself right now.

After what was probably an hour, he heard a door open behind him and someone moving around. He heard a soft sigh—John. The other man moved around the room he was in for a moment, and then there was a thump of a body hitting something soft.

He was in John's quarters? How did he get here? Rodney simply stayed still staring out over the city and the water—whatever he could see in the half-light of the cloud-covered sky.

After a while, he heard John move a little—from the sound of it, he was sleeping, moving around in the bed. Then, clearly, a single word, filled with so much longing and need it was a little heartbreaking—"Rodney..."

And for a brief moment Rodney felt trapped. He couldn't leave if he wanted to, and he couldn't…shouldn't stay. He knew he needed to apologize, but it was hard.

He decided to move, his limbs already stiff. He was hungry and he needed to find his bed.

When he entered the room, he found John sound asleep in the bed, curled in on himself. Even in sleep he looked sad, lonely, and he was moving restlessly.

Rodney moved to the bed, fingers ghosting over John's shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered, staring at his lover's, his partner's face.

John didn't wake up, but his whole body seemed to arch up, seeking more of Rodney's touch.

And a part of him ached inside. Rodney slid down, ending up in a pile beside John's bed, hand resting carefully on top of John's as he put his head down on the mattress in the curve of John's body.

John's movements had stilled, and he seemed to relax into the bed, curling more towards Rodney.

Closing his eyes, Rodney stilled, letting the familiar smells and sounds soothe him.

He woke up later disoriented, being pulled gently into the bed. "Ah, Rodney, buddy, that can't be comfortable. How long have you been down there like that?"

"What?"

When he opened his eyes, he found John's hazel ones staring back at him, amusement and concern all over his face. "Did you ever eat dinner?"

Rodney had to think for a minute. Lunch. He'd had lunch. He shook his head. "Don't think so."

John shook his head before pressing a soft kissing into Rodney's lips. "I have some PowerBars floating around. Let me grab you a few to at least hold off the hypoglycemic shock."

"What time is it?" Rodney finally managed to ask, his mind a little disjointed.

"Late. Nearly 0100. Considering I came to bed not long after you left this evening, it's been a few hours."

That was late. He needed to eat. "I should go," he said, trying to pushing himself upright. "Need to eat…"

John was back by his side in a second, pressing something into his hand. "I know you need to eat, but you don't need to go. Not if you don't want to."

Rodney took a bite of the PowerBar, remembering the taste. He'd forgotten how much he liked them. "Why am I here?"

The lights came up slightly, just enough that he could see John's face. "I don't know. The lock on my door is still engaged, so I'm guessing you came here before me. Did you come directly here?"

"No," Rodney replied immediately, but paused. He hadn't gone anywhere else. "I don't think I did. Was on the balcony."

John shook his head, but made sure Rodney ate every bite of the bar. "What am I going to do with you? You don't want me to take care of you—and I can understand that, wanting to find yourself again—but you aren't taking care of yourself either."

"It was just too much," Rodney admitted after a moment. "And you didn't even check your balcony. Anyone could have been out there."

John laughed softly. "I guess I didn't. The lock isn't keyed for anyone except me or you though, so I don't think I need to worry."

"Sorry."

"For what? I won't ever object you to retreating to my room. I'd rather have you here than anywhere else."

"I made you sad."

"That's okay. If I wasn't sad sometimes, how would I appreciate the times when I'm happy?" John smiled, reaching out to run a single finger along Rodney's jaw line. "And honestly, every day I get to wake up with you automatically makes me happy—no matter how corny that sounds."

"It was just…too much. I was angry."

"I don't blame you. It's okay to get angry, to yell at us when we cross the line. That way, we know it bothers you and not to do it again."

"I can do things on my own. I don't need to be told." That's what Kate had told him, reminded him. He needed to remember what he'd done before.

"No, you don't." John shifted so he could wrap his arms around Rodney, pulling him close. "But there is a difference between us telling you what to do, and being worried about you. If we crossed that line, I'm sorry, that wasn't our intention."

"I'm sorry. I just feel stupid lately."

"You are anything but stupid." Lips were pressed into the side of his head. "But I know it's hard—hard to remember your place in things, to find your footing again. If it's any help, you're doing amazing and I'm really proud of you."

"But I was stupid tonight. I didn't eat."

"So? In case you've forgotten, you used to do that all the time. Remember me swinging by to drop off sandwiches in the labs, or to drag you away to dinner? That's not stupidity. It's just you. When you get caught up in something, little things become less important. That's what you have me around for—to take care of you so you can focus on the more important stuff."

Rodney sighed, tightening his arms around John. He still felt stupid. Eating was a little thing. He should be able to remember it.

John was quiet for a while, just holding him. "Don't let it bother you, okay? Or if it does, we can figure out a way to help you remember. Anything you need to help you feel like yourself again."

The words hurt to say—he knew they weren't normally in his vocabulary—but they were true. "I don't know."

John gently turned his face, lips claiming Rodney's gently. "It's okay. We'll figure it out together."

Rodney hummed, pressing forward, deepening the kiss.

John's tongue swept inside, tracing the curves of Rodney's mouth, his teeth. Then he sucked gently, drawing Rodney's tongue into his own mouth, inviting it to play and taste.

And Rodney did, moaning as he explored, his hands threading through John's hair.

John made a soft noise, lying back on the bed, pulling Rodney on top of him. His legs came up to wrap around Rodney's waist as they kissed, pulling their groins together.

Moaning deeply, Rodney gave himself up to the sensations, to the kiss. This is what it was supposed to feel like. This was what it felt to fly. His hands explored—one still threaded through John's hair while the other slid down, resting against John's side.

John just moaned, opening up to him, for him. While Rodney explored, John's hands weren't idle, either. They worked under his shirt to drag across the skin of Rodney's back.

He needed more. Rodney pulled back mid-kiss, getting a whimper from John as he tugged his jacket off and pulled his shirt over his head. John hands immediately went for his nipples and the rings that still adorned them.

John tugged and played, and then rolled them so Rodney was on the bottom. With a wicked smile, he closed his mouth around one nipple, using his tongue and teeth to send bolts of pleasure all through Rodney's body.

Panting and moaning quietly, Rodney arched into the touches, his breath catching in his throat as it overwhelmed his senses. As much as it drove him crazy, he couldn't get enough. One hand had found its way back into John's hair and tugged him closer, demanding more. His other searched for skin.

John sat up, pulling out of Rodney's grasp gently, and stripped off his shirt, tossing it away. Then he dove back in, this time attacking the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first.

Their touches were frantic and desperate as if neither one of them could get enough. Rodney's fingers dug into the skin of John's back as his lover bit down, chuckling at the strangled moan he pulled from Rodney's mouth.

He ground his hips down into Rodney's groin—their cloth-covered erections pressing into each other, rubbing against each other. The both paused to groan at the sensations.

"Please, John…please," Rodney begged, finally managing to find words.

"God…Rodney... Yes..." He sat up again, fumbling with the buttons on both their pants, keening softly when they wouldn't respond immediately.

Rodney tried to help, but his fingers weren't working—like little sausages attached to his hands. He needed to come and he didn't want to do it in his pants.

Finally, with a growl, John just ripped them both, popping the buttons almost simultaneously. "Off, get them off, need you naked..."

"Please, John," Rodney whispered, lifting his hips to help John pull the fabric off his legs.

After he had stripped Rodney, John shimmied out of his own pants and boxers, pausing to grab a tube of lube from the dresser. Turning back, he hesitated. "I want to...God, Rodney, I want you. But I need to know it's okay, that you're okay with it..."

"God, yes, please. Need you, please."

With a groan of relief, John climbed back on top, putting lube on his hand before he took them both in hand, stroking. "God, you're so perfect..."

"Please," Rodney begged, wanting more, needing more. "Please, please, please…"

"Yes…I know…Yes…" He continued to stroke, rubbing them together, loving the feel of them in his hand.

"Please." The whisper came out like a sob. More. Needed more. Needed it now.

"Rodney... Yes... God yes... Fuck..." John started to stroke them harder, twisting his wrist at the end of every stroke.

With every touch, every stroke, Rodney saw stars, moaning and whimpering and begging for more. "More…please…John…please…"

His lover obliged and Rodney suddenly arched his back and was coming, his breath catching in his throat for a long moment until his body unclenched and shuddered, slumping against the bed as his orgasm rolled through him.

A few seconds later, he felt John come before slumping down, rolling to the side to avoid crushing Rodney. "Guh."

Still panting, Rodney was completely limp, his heart pounding in his chest.

One of John's hands came to rest on Rodney's chest, a finger tracing idly through the cooling come there. "Love you."

Rodney reached out, trying to grab John's other hand, squeezing the little bit of fingers he managed to find.

John huffed once, wiggling closer and throwing a leg over Rodney's. "Sleep now. We can take a shower and clean up later."

Shaking his head, Rodney tugged at John hand, turning his head to the side so he could look at the other man.

"Hmm?" John's eyes had dropped to half-mast, and he had a goofy grin on his face.

Rodney could feel the last legs of energy from the PowerBar. "Need to eat."

John blinked a few times. "Oh yeah. 'kay." With visible effort, he pushed himself up. "Lemme get a towel to wipe us clean, then we can wander down to the mess. I didn't actually eat dinner either, so I'll make us sandwiches. And Teyla had ice cream—we'll find where she hid it, if Ronon didn't finish it off."

"Do you…" Rodney started, feeling the sweat on his forehead and wondering what it was from—the sex or the lack of sugar thing. "Do you have my glucose tablets?"

"Yeah. Hang on." John rooted around, and a minute later, John helped him sit up, pressing several small tablets into his mouth and handing him a glass of water. "There you go. Hopefully that will hold you until we get some real food in you."

Rodney closed his eyes and nodded, swallowing the pills without comment. Stupid. So stupid.

"Hey. Whatever you're thinking, stop it. It was an honest mistake, and not as bad as it could have been. We know how to deal with this." A warm, damp towel swept over his chest and groin as John gently cleaned him up. "A turkey sandwich and a pint of ice cream, and you'll be good as new."

Rodney just nodded again, letting John take the glass from his hand. He wasn't feeling too horrible, but he didn't want to end up back in the infirmary the first night Carson sent him home. "Pants. I don't have other pants."

"S'ok. These are a little wrinkled, but otherwise fine. I'll put my wrinkled ones back on too, so we'll match." John handed over the garments in question.

"Buttons. I remember buttons flying."

"Oh." John looked down, and flushed slightly. "I guess I forgot about that part. Okay, plan B. I have sweatpants, and you've lost enough weight that they'll fit you." he pulled out a pair and tossed them to Rodney, pulling on a second set for himself, along with one of his black tee-shirts.

It took a minute before Rodney attempted to get upright.

Smiling softly, John helped him get dressed, pressing random kisses to Rodney's body parts as he did.

This is what he missed.

Straightening up, John pressed a last soft kiss to Rodney's lips. "All right. Sandwiches. Turkey awaits us."

They moved slowly to the transporter and as the doors closed, John's palm caressed Rodney's ass, running over both cheeks. "I missed this ass."

Rodney turned into John, pressing against him. "I missed you."

John kissed him, tongue diving in briefly. "We'll have to see what we can do later to make it up to your poor ass. I could kiss it and make it better."

"You could," Rodney said, leaning into nip at John's lower lip.

Humming softly, John wrapped his arms around Rodney, pulling him closer. "I think I need to."

Rodney shifted slightly, aiming for a light kiss. "We’re in the transporter aren't we?"

"Yeah, we are. And we really need to get you a real meal. Rain-check for after we eat?"

"Okay." Rodney offered a smile, tilting his head so he was looking up at John through eyelashes.

John made a soft noise and tilted Rodney's face for another kiss, this one slow and sweet. "We'll take our time later. I want to kiss every inch of your body."

Rodney pulled back. "Hmm, okay."

Leaning in for a last nip on Rodney's lower lip, John let his arms fall back to his sides before pressing the button on the transporter. A few minutes later they were in the kitchen, Sheppard humming to himself as he fixed two huge sandwiches.

Rodney had wandered into the large walk-in fridge/freezer, investigating what might have been added to the stores. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew he'd find it eventually.

He was surprised to hear John suddenly talking to someone. It was late, so neither of them had thought they would run into anyone.

The voice wasn't familiar.

When he moved closer, he heard John's response to what had probably been a question. "Nah, I'm good, but thanks."

"I’m sure we could make some kind of arrangement."

"I said no, soldier. So if you don't mind, I'm going to finish making my sandwiches, collect my friend, and we're going to head out."

Why was there someone in the kitchen with John? No one else had a key.

He heard the other voice drop low, almost seductive. And the sound of someone jumping back. "Jesus! No. Look, I know I'm a lenient commander, but this is inappropriate no matter how you look at it. Get the hell out of here, Smythe."

"Going to report me?"

"If you force the issue, yes. But not for DADT. I could care less who you fuck, but no means no, no matter the gender. And I'm still your commanding officer. So I'd suggest you find somewhere else to be. Now."

"Think about it, Sheppard. The offer's open."

"Fuck off, Smythe."

"Careful, sir. Someone might take that as an invitation," Smythe said, footfall moving away.

Rodney moved to the door of the walk-in, peeking out, a bag of chocolate chip cookies in his hands. "John?"

His lover was standing with his arms braced on the counter, head down. "It's okay, Rodney. He's gone."

Rodney stepped out slowly, moving to John "Did he just…did he just proposition you?"

John looked up, a wry smile stretching his lips. "Yes. And he's the second one. Someone managed to get hold of the unedited version of the report detailing my... captivity. So some of the men have decided I'd make a good toy. It's nothing to worry about. Hey, are those real chocolate chip cookies? Sweet!"

"John, are you okay?"

His lover closed his eyes briefly. "Yeah. It's... startling, and a little unnerving, but... as long as it never goes any farther, it's nothing to worry about. Right now, I just want to eat our sandwiches and cookies, and return to our previously scheduled evening activities."

Rodney waited a minute for John to pull himself together before following him quietly, walking next to John the entire way, the cookies clutched to his chest.

Back in John's room, his lover leaned in to kiss each corner of Rodney's mouth. "It's okay. Don't worry about it, all right? We have tasty snacks, and a lot of ass kissing to get to. Focus on that instead."

"I'm sorry, John. I wish…I wish there was something I could do to help."

"Just being here, letting me love you—that helps. More than you realize."

Rodney nodded, finally letting John take the package from his hands, settling him on the bed. John turned to grab the sandwiches and tug out a few cookies. He broke a small piece on one as he moved back to the bed, putting it against Rodney's lips for him to take.

And then, memories returned in a flash—and Rodney was tied in place, force-fed food that only Kolya gave him—his breath catching in his throat.

"Rodney? Hey, it's okay..." When he snapped back into himself, John was holding him, rocking him gently, and talking almost non-stop. "I'm sorry, whatever I did to make you remember, I'm so damn sorry, please come back, please, I need you, Rodney..."

"John?" The word was whispered and shaky, his whole body trembling.

"Rodney. Oh God, Rodney..." John pulled him closer. "I'm here. God, I'm sorry. Whatever I did..."

"Oh god, I’m sorry."

They clung to each other for a while, John pressing soft kissing into the top of Rodney's head. "Want to.. to talk about it? What set it off?"

"Food," Rodney whispered. "Most meals were hand-fed."

"Fucking bastard. I like feeding you..." John sighed. "But for now at least, I'll stick to just handing it over, okay?"

Rodney nodded against John's chest.

"I think we're both a little edgy tonight, but later in the week, I'll pull out our toys. You can tell me which ones you don't think you're up for any time soon, and which ones won't bring back bad memories."

"No gag," Rodney said immediately, remembering the feel of the one Kolya used, the taste of it.

"Okay. And I'm guessing no cuffs or cages, considering he wouldn't let you take either off."

"I…I don't know. Those I got used to. They didn't hurt."

"Okay. We can try them, see how you react. We'll go through everything, and anything that gives you a weird feeling or, once on, makes you panic, gets pulled off or out immediately, and we don't try it again until you think you're ready."

Rodney closed his eyes. He hated this. "Okay…I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I promise." John used a finger to tilt Rodney's face up for a kiss. "There are some things you may never want to use again, and that's okay, too."

"I shouldn't have to get used to this…things. I liked what we had before."

"I know. But you'll like what we have now too, I promise. The important part isn't the toys, or the BDSM or the dom/sub thing. It's us, together, figuring out how to make each other happy. If we have to change a few things up for it to work, that's fine."

"I needed what we had," Rodney whispered, trying to make John understand.

John kissed him again. "We're not giving it up completely. You're still mine, and I'll still take care of you, make you fly, help you let go. We'll just have to move slowly, like we did when we first started out. Try things out, see what still works and what doesn't."

Rodney nodded. "Okay."

"Now, that glucose tab is probably wearing off, so before we do anything else, we're going to eat."

"Okay." He still wasn't happy, but he'd take what he could get.

"Hey, we'll fix it. Trust me, okay? It might take some time, but we'll get back there. I'm not going to let you hurt, not if I can help it." Reaching over, John grabbed one of the plates and held it out.

"Thank you," Rodney whispered, taking it from John's hands, half-heartedly biting into the sandwich.

"Love you." John snagged the other sandwich for himself, digging in with more enthusiasm.

Rodney set himself to eating. He knew he needed it, but it still didn't solve any of his other issues. It only proved that he was weak—just like Kolya knew he was.

When they were done, and had snacked on a few cookies, John stretched out across the bed to watch Rodney throw away the trash. "Are you tired?"

He shrugged, stepping into the bathroom to wash his hands. He was, but he wasn't. "Why? You had something in mind?" Rodney asked as he stepped back into the room.

John had stripped again in the time Rodney had stepped out of the room, and was sprawled across the bed. "You could get those clothes back off and come lie with me."

"That was quick," Rodney commented, pausing just over the threshold into the room.

"Mmmm. More comfortable this way."

"I see that."

"I almost miss the silks sometimes. They were really soft. BDUs kinda chafe, don't they?"

"I was naked for six weeks. Everything chafes."

John chuckled. "So strip and come to bed. And I know what you mean. I was mostly naked for four weeks. I wore silks on court days, but they weren't much. More decoration than clothing. I'm used to clothes again now, but it still feels good to strip."

Rodney finally nodded, tugging the clothes from his body more out of instinct and habit than anything. "You probably looked fantastic," Rodney said, trying to keep the conversation going. The thought of silence right now was disturbing for some reason.

John shrugged. "I can put it on for you sometime if you want. I was wearing the full set when they brought me home, and Carson and Lorne cleaned and folded everything for me. I have the silks, and all my jewelry in a box in the closet."

"Maybe," Rodney said, finally moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "Maybe when we're both…" Rodney shrugged. "You know." Not a basket-case. Not so fucked up. When it wasn't so close and new and painful.

"Yeah. That's why I put them all away. I can't stand the thought of getting rid of them, but..."

"And of course I'm the one scarred for life," Rodney said, glancing down his body, the silver in his nipples a constant reminder of what happened. Carson had said he needed to keep them in a few more weeks to make sure everything healed correctly. It took eight to ten weeks to fully heal, to be sure there wasn't any infection. He'd ended up keeping them because John liked them. But right now…right now they reminded him that he'd been a slave, sold as someone's property.

John reached out and pulled Rodney close. He pressed a kiss to each nipple. "I do like them. Granted, this wasn't how I planned to do it, but I had hoped to convince you to pierce them some day anyway. They're really hot."

"They're hot on you."

"They're just as hot on you. I have a set, too. They were part of my jewelry. The only reason I didn't have mine pierced on the planet was because they already were." He kissed them again, this time adding a small suck to each one. "Very, very hot."

Rodney's breath caught in his throat—pain and pleasure warring within. "You had the opportunity to choose to have them pierced. Me, not so much."

"I know. I'm sorry." John looked up at him through his lashes. "If you really don't like them, take them out when Beckett says its okay and throw them away. We'll forget about it."

"Hard to do that. I'll always have the hole." Rodney sighed, suddenly tired.

John's hands rubbed slow circles on his back. "It's up to you. When you don't have the rings in, honestly, you don't even notice the holes. You didn't know mine were pierced until I showed you, right? And over time, if you don't wear anything in them, they will close up a bit."

"Oh yes. And won't that be a joy when some alien culture discovers they were pierced and have closed a little so they need to open them up again because of some stupid cultural practice."

"We'll worry about that later. In all the missions we've done, that's never been a problem. And if we ever do come across a culture that wants someone to wear nipple rings, I'll volunteer. I like having them in, so it's not a hardship for me."

Rodney huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowled down at John.

John just quirked one corner of his mouth up. "It's late, and we're both tired. Let's get some sleep and we can argue the merits of nipple rings later, okay?"

"Fine," Rodney said, letting John tug him down into his arms, settling them in their usual sleeping positions. He felt John fall asleep a few minutes later, his breathing evening out as his body relaxed in slumber. For Rodney though, sleep was a long time in coming as he tried to sort things out in his head about Atlantis, about himself, and about his relationship…partnership with John.

With a sigh he finally closed his eyes, no closer to an answer than he had been when he'd lain down. Tomorrow was another day.

***


	3. Chapter 3

Kate settled into her chair, watching Rodney McKay fuss a bit. In his daily sessions with her, he was getting more and more restless, wanting to be gone faster, quicker to anger at times. But in the three weeks since he had been back, she was impressed with his progress.

Along with Carson, she had agreed two days ago to let him return to light duties, and it seemed to be helping tremendously. He was finding himself again, and she hadn't been sure it would be possible at all when they first brought him home.

"So, Rodney, what are you working on today?" She had found that, especially since he began working again, opening with his work tended to be best, getting him talking without forcing anything emotional or confrontational.

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in the chair. "Something you wouldn't even begin to comprehend so there's no real point in going through it now is there?"

She smiled. "So you are working on some of the more complicated projects again? Excellent. When we talked yesterday, you had been thinking about resuming work on some of your own projects that had been temporarily assumed by Doctor Zelenka. Are those the ones you're focusing on now?"

"Some, yes."

"Was he happy to hand them back over to you?"

"They're my projects. He doesn't get a say," Rodney said, letting out a long breath. "Look, we both know why I'm here. Can we just cut to the chase so I can go back to work?"

She nodded her head. "Of course. Have you had any flashbacks since yesterday?"

"No." The word was clipped, but some of the anger had already faded from his tone, his body relaxing a bit.

She gave him an encouraging smile. "You're making very good progress—better than I had hoped actually. So why don't you tell me—is there anything bothering you that you'd like to talk about specifically today?"

"Not really, no. Does that mean I can go?"

Chuckling, she shook her head. "You're with me for at least an hour a day right now I'm afraid. How are you relating to your staff?"

He sighed, rolling his eyes. "Fine. They're still idiots. I'm still a genius. No progress there. The new recruits are even worse than the last batch if that's possible."

"Have you spoken to them about their...inadequacies?"

"Of course," he answered immediately, eyes shifting down and to the left.

"Rodney? It's okay if you're still finding it difficult to fall into the role of supervisor, complete with the need to correct mistakes."

He sighed, still looking at the door. "Fine. No, I haven't talked to them. But I will."

"What's stopped you so far?"

"I've been busy," he said with a shrug. "Have almost two months to catch up with."

"Is that all it is? Time?"

He bristled a little. "Why? What does it matter? Do you think I'm avoiding confrontation?"

She tilted her head. "Are you?"

He finally turned to her, scowling slightly. "I don't know. What do you think? You're the professional head shrinker here."

"Then yes, I do think you're avoiding confrontation. I think you're still afraid if you raise your voice overly, or put yourself out there too much, that you'll be punished for it. You've come far from where you were when you first came home, but you're not completely yourself again yet."

"Well, then," he said gesturing toward her before crossing his arms over his chest. "Since it's all been decided, we must be finished."

"If you don't agree with me, what is your assessment? How do you see yourself right now?"

"I didn't say that."

"I'd still be interested in hearing how you view yourself right now. What do you think is your biggest stumbling block?"

Rodney was silent for a moment, obviously taking her question seriously. When he finally answered his words came slowly. "Trying to decide…or figure out what made me such an easy target."

"An easy target?" She'd hoped that by getting him talking, asking short questions that didn't break into his thoughts so much as guide them, that he would roll with it.

"For Kolya. For his type of…coercion. It was so easy for him to find ways to get me to do what he wanted. Part of me wonders…worries...if I'm just…if I'm far too willing to be led."

She thought about it—he was putting some effort into his answers, she would do him the same courtesy of weighing her words. "How long did you fight against his control? I know you had very little options, even from the beginning, but how long did you hold out before he had a firm grip on you?"

"Not as long as I should have."

"Have you had any training on how to resist that kind of psychological torture?"

Rodney shook his head. "Not specifically, no."

"I've worked both to train soldiers for the possibility of exactly what you went through, and also worked with them on this end—people who came back from experiences like yours and needed help making sense of it all. Would it surprise you to know that for those who were only held short-term—two weeks at most—training made a big difference? There were able to resist the lures placed in front of them. But for those held longer—three weeks or more, which is only half the time you were held—even though they had been trained to resist, almost every soldier I worked with had broken in some way."

"So I'm supposed to be happy that I broke after a few days?"

"No. I'm just trying to give you a little perspective. You were held for six weeks. From what you've told us, and what we were able to get from the captured guard, you actually held out for about four weeks." She held up a hand to forestall his protest. "Yes, I am aware that you were forced to concede on certain points long before that—you were a prisoner, so that is only natural. For right now, we're just looking at the point where you stopped trying to fight at all. Which was four weeks in. That's a week longer than even some trained soldiers were able to hold out in similar situations."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "What does it really matter? I was willingly helping them. Willingly…giving myself to…him. He could have done anything he wanted—and for the most part he did—and all I said was 'thank you, sir, can I have some more?'"

"And you did that because you were protecting someone you love. Not because you wanted to help him."

"I wanted to be warm and fed and I didn't want to get beaten again."

"Which is a very natural reaction. The body can only be pushed so far before survival instincts kick in. While you can blame yourself I suppose, for being human, the blame doesn't really lie with you. It lies with the people who held you and deliberately treated you in such a way as to provoke those instincts to the surface."

"And I willingly submitted to whatever they wanted without a second thought."

"As you were held longer, yes. But by then you didn't have a choice. Between the conditioning program they had engaged, and the drugs that made you more susceptible to those programs, resistance was no longer an option. At that point, your primary priority was to stay alive—which you did."

Rodney shook his head, looking away, eyes focused out the window.

She sat back, letting him think for a few minutes. "I'm not asking you to believe me outright, or all at once. All I am asking is that, when you start to blame yourself, you take everything else into account at the same time. I know it's difficult, since separating first-hand knowledge from facts that happened outside that experience is not always easy, but at least be willing to think about and consider the additional facts. Don't discount them out of hand."

"How much does my…relationship with John play into this?" Rodney finally asked, the question quiet.

"You want to know if the fact that you have a dominant/submissive relationship with John made you more susceptible to Kolya?"

Rodney nodded.

She nodded slowly, thinking. "I'm not sure I can give you a hard answer to that, but I can give you my opinion, coming from both a clinical practitioner, and someone who has participated in the same activities. I actually think it gave you something of an advantage. You know how that type of relationship is supposed to work, supposed to make you feel. I think that relationship is one of the reasons you did give a little on some things early on—such as being fed. That isn't something you weren't used to, so unlike some people, it wasn't humiliating or embarrassing. It gave you an edge because you could give in to those things and still hold onto your core self. And I also believe it is one of the reasons you're progressing much better than I had even hoped for now. You have someone you can rely on, to lean on to help you get through this. And while what was done to you was without a doubt, evil, there was also no one specific act that you hadn't done before in the context of a loving relationship. Even when you did retreat, those factors helped…insulate, for lack of a better term…your mind, preventing you from sustaining long-term psychological trauma."

"But it could have made it easier for him to…control me."

"It could have, but from what I've been able to glean, it did the opposite. It made it easier for you to give him the illusion of control—even if it wasn't a conscious decision—while still retaining your ability to separate your situation from your home. It wasn't until he threatened the person you love that he really gained control of you, and that was a very natural reaction that anyone would have had, regardless of what kind of relationship they enjoy."

Rodney was quiet, keeping his eyes on the window and the view outside, obviously thinking, deciding something. If his questions were any indication of what was spinning through his mind, John might be up for a very big surprise.

She sat back—she had given him a lot to ponder, and, knowing Rodney McKay, she knew she needed to give him the time to fully examine it, analyze it, and file it away. She had a feeling they would be revisiting parts of this conversation tomorrow.

"But…but what if this isn't going to be an isolated incident?"

She sighed softly. "I wish I could guarantee it will be. But your team seems to be a magnet for danger. All I can tell you is that you can't live your life worrying about what might happen down the road. All you can do is live today, have contingencies in place in case you need them, and find happiness."

Rodney snorted softly.

"Happiness is important, Rodney. It gives us something to fight for, to come home to. Don't cut yourself off from it because of fear. We can work through fear, find ways to manage it that don't require giving up the things you love."

He turned to her, his blue eyes sharp. "I know what you're insinuating, but I'm not talking about leaving John or anything. That's not what I'm thinking at all."

Smiling, she breathed a silent relief. For better or for worse, these two needed one another, especially after what they had just been through. "Good. Then what are you thinking?"

He paused, but held her gaze. "A change."

"What kind of change?"

"I'm not sure, but something has to change, I have to change."

She knew she couldn't simply talk him out of it, but maybe she could at least make sure he didn't hurt his relationship in the process. "If you need that to feel comfortable again, then we can work together to figure it out. Before you make any decisions, though, I'd like it if you'd be willing to discuss them with me, and with John, since he'll be affected as well. You don't have to, but I think you'll be happier with the results that way."

He was silent for a moment, looking away again, his gaze focused outside. "He probably already knows there's something…wrong."

"He knows you've both been through very difficult situations, yes. You both have issues to work through, and they will take some time to figure out. But given what I know of you both, you'll figure them out faster, and ultimately to a better conclusion, if you do it together. Actually, when you're up to it, I'd like to start scheduling a few joint sessions."

Rodney shrugged. "Fine." He turned a weary eye on her. "Are we done?"

They had made some progress today, best not to push it. "I think so, yes. Please, think about what I said, and talk to John."

He nodded as he stood, seemingly at a loss at what to do for a moment before shaking off whatever thought he'd had and heading out. The door closed quietly behind him, leaving her alone.

She ran a hand over her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Rodney was making progress, but she was worried about him, and the effects his doubts would have on his other half. If nothing else, the two of them were a full-time job all by themselves.

***

It was very early in the pre-dawn of Atlantis, and John enjoyed the way the floors of Atlantis felt under his track shoes as he ran. He had missed his morning jogs, the quiet of the city, just him and Atlantis, and the stretch and burn of muscles.

As he looped back into the more inhabited sectors, he slowed, letting his muscles start to cool down. His shirt was tossed over one shoulder, pulled off when he had started to work up a good sweat. He felt relaxed, loose, and started to think ahead to the day, planning what needed to get done.

Lorne had done a good job—a real good job—when he'd been gone and "under the weather", making sure everything was kept up-to-date and John was actually trying to keep it that way. For some reason it got easier to do his job when there wasn't so much paperwork to bog him down.

John stopped at his mid-way point to stretch again, further cooling his muscles down so he wouldn't cramp up later. As he straightened, he was surprised to hear a footfall behind him. He didn't usually run into too many people this time of the morning, since he deliberately avoided the patrol routes.

Glancing over his shoulder he caught sight of Lorne bearing down on him, shirt stained with sweat.

"Morning, Evan. Didn't know anyone else took advantage of Lantean sunrises."

"Morning, sir," he said, slowing down to chat, but continually moving on his feet so he didn't stiffen up. "If I don't do it now it just never seems to get done."

Chuckling, John nodded. "I know how that goes. Besides, it's a good way to start the day."

"For some."

John grinned at him, then tilted his head. "Hey, since I've got you here I have a request for you. Can you pull the personnel files of all the Marines we've gotten in over the last three months? There are a few things I'd like to check, and I haven't had time to hunt them down myself."

"Of course," he said, his eyebrows drawing together a little as he tossed John a puzzled look. "Looking for something specific?"

"Just a few people I want to read up on. I know they were all posted here in that time frame."

"I'll get them to you first thing." He paused again, tilting his head to the side. "You look like you're feeling better."

They started walking again, and John shrugged. "I am. Wouldn't have been cleared for duty if I wasn't. It's nice to be useful again."

"Good. When do you think you'll be cleared for off-world missions?"

"I am, right now. But until McKay is cleared, I won't schedule anything for my team. He's doing a lot better as well. I'm hopeful we can start easing back into things in the next week or two. There are a few pure science missions to planets that have already been checked out that I think I'll assign my team to. It will let us get back into the groove of working together without too much risk."

Lorne nodded. "Sounds good, sir."

They passed a patrol, and John spared an eyeroll for Smythe, who gave him the once over, before returning his attention to Lorne. "I know you and Zelenka had prioritized those missions while I was out of commission. Is there anything in particular you'd like to get checked off the list?"

"There's a few. I'll make sure I give you the top three along with the other files."

"Perfect. I'm going to grab a quick shower and breakfast, but I'll probably be in my office later. You did a good job while I was gone, if I can help it, I'll try not to fall so far behind again."

Lorne laughed. "Highly unlikely on the keeping-up part, but thanks for the rest. See you later, sir," he said, picking up a little speed as he took the next corridor heading back out toward the uninhabited sections.

Chuckling to himself, John changed course slightly, heading for his room. He wondered if Rodney would be awake yet.

It took him about ten minutes to walk back and there were a lot more people up and about—even at his early hour. Rodney was still in bed, lying on his stomach, more or less sprawled across the bed. The sheet had shifted, covering him up to his shoulder on one side, while draping low enough on the other for John to see the pale skin of his hip.

Pausing, John caught his breath. His lover was simply beautiful, achingly so. Moving quietly, John sat carefully on the edge of the bed where he could look his fill.

In slumber, all of the tension and worry slid away, simply leaving Rodney behind.

Carefully, John laid a palm flat on Rodney's exposed hip, a spark running through him at the connection. Perfect. His lover was so fucking perfect.

Rodney shifted, snuffing into the pillow before his breathing evened out again.

Moving slowly to avoid waking the other man, John drew the sheet aside a bit more, exposing additional skin. He went to his knees beside the bed so he could press soft kisses along Rodney's hip and thigh, up his side.

Rodney's breathing changed again and John paused, waiting for it to even out, but the other man shifted again before stilling.

Waiting another heartbeat and getting no objections, John began again, worshipping Rodney's body with his mouth, moving slowly, carefully, trying to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"John?" The word was quiet, whispered.

He ghosted the words onto Rodney's skin. "You're so beautiful."

"I'm pale and have morning breath."

John kissed a faint, barely-there tan line. "Perfect."

Rodney huffed, but shifted again, turning onto his side facing John.

This brought new skin within John's reach. He mouthed at it, ran his hands gently through body hair, loving the way it felt, wiry and soft at the same time.

Chuckling, Rodney reached out to him, fingers running through John's hair, brushing against his jaw and shoulder. "Bed is more comfortable."

Humming, John leaned into the caress, smiling at Rodney as he climbed up next to him. "I didn't mean to wake you up. You were just so... you took my breath away when I walked in. I had to taste you."

"I woke up and you were gone so I decided to make use of the space," Rodney said, offering a quiet smile.

"Hmmm, if I'm going to be treated to a sight like that every time I get back from a run, I'll make a point of jogging every morning instead of just some of them."

"It was either sleep more or go to work. I didn't feel like getting up yet."

John swung his leg over so he was straddling Rodney, leaning down on his elbows so he could kiss his lover. "It's still early. We don't have to be in to work for a while yet."

Rodney raised an eyebrow at him. "You had something in mind?"

John hesitated briefly. What he really wanted, was craving, was to be fucked. But Rodney had always preferred to bottom. "Maybe."

"If you didn't have something in mind, then I'll just get ready to head into the labs since you woke me."

Licking his lips, John nibbled on Rodney's bottom lip. "I want to ride you."

Rodney stilled and John backed off.

He dropped his head to the curve of Rodney's neck. "If...if you don't... it's okay."

"No…I…" Rodney paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure I can do it like that."

Swallowing, John nodded. "Like that as in... fucking me at all, or being on the bottom for it?" His body was aching to be filled, and fingers just didn't cut it sometimes.

"The second…the second I think."

Shivering slightly, John lifted his head. "Fuck me, then? I... I really want to feel you so deep inside me I can taste it..."

John saw a slight nod before Rodney's mouth twisted in a half-smile. "Convince me."

Just talking about it had John getting hard in his sweats, so he shifted his hips against Rodney, moving to nibble on his lover's mouth again even as he smiled. "I can do that."

"Hmm. Hope so." Rodney's fingers tracked under his waistband at the small of his back, shoving the material down an inch.

John gasped at the heat of skin on skin, moving to capture his lover's mouth fully, pushing inside with his tongue, moaning at the taste and feel of pure McKay.

And Rodney pushed back, fighting him, tongue battling tongue.

John gave, letting his lover take control. He knew Rodney had been struggling with his own submission lately, questioning it. And John... found that he missed being the submissive sometimes, just being able to lie back and feel. Maybe a little role reversal would be good for both of them. When McKay rolled them, pressing John into the bed, he moaned and arched, his entire body thrumming with need. "Rodney..."

"Quiet," Rodney hissed, attacking skin with lips and teeth, hands rough.

It sent heat shooting through John, making him whimper. The pain, in counterpoint with the pleasure, made him writhe a little. God, it felt good, he felt alive. Panting, he put his hands above his head, giving Rodney silent permission to do whatever he wanted.

And Rodney took it. He made sure to hit every one of John's hot buttons, making him writhe and squirm, overwhelming his senses. A few hard pulls on his cock or balls quickly brought him down, but Rodney kept at it, his movements edged with urgency and something else.

John arched up into every touch, and when he was pushed back down, only the discipline that had been drummed into him under Ashira kept him from coming. God, so good. His sweats were stripped away, and his legs spread wide, and the one corner of his mind not overwhelmed with pleasure almost wished Rodney would use the restraints, make him take it.

And then Rodney's hands were on his hips as he tried to scramble off John's legs, trying to turn him over onto his stomach, but tripping himself. "Turn, damn it."

"Yes... yes sir..." John pushed himself up, turning over, trembling with want and need.

Fingers entered him a beat later—lubed and careful—but each thrust was focused, managing to avoid his prostate with every pass. One finger became two, stretching, pushing, forcing him to mold to what they wanted. Three fingers were tight, but that didn't stop Rodney as he worked them until they were accepted easily.

John put his head and shoulders down on the bed, pushing his ass out, fucking back on every thrust as he sobbed, trying to get the angle right, needing release, needing Rodney.

And between one breath and the next, the fingers disappeared to be replaced by a cock, lubed and hard and ready, pushing in without pause.

John cried out, pushing back, only to still when Rodney slapped his ass, ordered him to stop. He tried to move a hand to get it around his leaking, aching cock, but that was slapped away as well. "Please, oh god, please, Rodney, need to come..."

"No."

Whimpering, John submitted, panting hard. He couldn't stop the tremors running through his body, the soft gasps and moans escaping from his lips. But he was good, wanted to be good...

Rodney thrust into him hard, pounding into him, harsh whispered words muttered under his breath, fingers digging into John's hips, holding him in place. After a few passes Rodney cried out with a strangled whisper and came, pulsing into John's ass. He collapsed on top of John, limp and sated.

Still whimpering softly, John needed to come, was desperate for release. "R...Rodney... Please..."

But Rodney didn't answer, breathing heavily into John's back.

Sobbing softly, John knew he couldn't come without permission, not now, not like this. The habits drilled into him, that he couldn't come without being told, couldn't touch himself unless ordered, had all surfaced, pushing him deep into headspace. He buried his face in the sheets and cried, still so turned on it hurt, but needing Rodney, needing release...

His lover finally moved, pulling out, making them both hiss. He slumped onto the bed next to John, curling up on his side, tremors wracking his frame.

John knew something was wrong, but he couldn't pull himself up, couldn't... He needed... Tentatively, he wrapped himself around Rodney, pressing his face into the other man's shoulder, still crying softly even as he tried to comfort.

But Rodney pushed him off, finally stumbling from the bed and into the bathroom. John heard him a moment later. The sounds of sickness were hard to miss.

Not really knowing what was wrong, caught between two different headspaces—both sub and dom warring within him—John curled up on the bed, shaking hard.

John heard words—Rodney was talking to someone, his voice desperate, trembling. Minutes later the door opened and there were people, other people in the room.

He just curled tighter into himself, hating himself a little, wanting to go help Rodney, wanting to fix whatever was wrong, but still so caught in the headspace that he couldn't... he had been told to stay still, not to come, to stay...

Hands were on his arm, a soft familiar voice in his hear. "John? Lad? Come on, John. What happened?"

John let himself be turned, gathered into strong arms. "N...not sure. Rodney... Need to... to check on..."

"We're getting him sorted out. Are you hurt? Rodney said he hurt you."

John shook his head. "N…no. C…can't come. Told me not to... But not hurt... Just... headspace..." He tried to gather his scattered thoughts, tried to pull himself together, knowing Rodney needed him.

"If you need to come, go ahead," Carson said, shifting to look over his shoulder. "It's only you and me right now."

John's whole body shuddered as it responded as if he had been commanded. He curled away, feeling his entire body flush at the reaction, at not being able to stop it. "Sorry," he whispered.

Carson patted his arm, rubbing carefully. "It's okay, lad. Let me get you something to clean up with as you get yourself back together."

John was arching into the touch before he could stop himself, then flushed again. "Rodney? How is... is he okay?"

"I donna know yet. I had him sent right to the infirmary."

"I...hurt him?"

"No…I think he may have hurt you."

John shook his head, his body starting to relax. "Didn't hurt me. I don't know what happened but…Asked him to…to fuck me. I....have no idea what..."

"And he seems to have done that," Carson said, rising to his feet and heading into the bathroom, returning with a warm wet cloth.

As he fell back into himself, John did a quick check. He had some bruises, and sitting would be a problem today, but nothing too serious. "I'm fine."

Carson offered the cloth to John. "I'll do a check myself to make sure if that's alright."

John flushed again. "Ah... is that really, um, necessary? I mean, it was a bit rough, but the fact that I was still painfully aroused should be a good indication that nothing is really wrong, right..."

"I'd rather make sure. I can do a quick exam here or we can go to the infirmary."

God, even his ears felt hot. "Here... If you…if it has to be done."

Carson nodded, patting John's arm. "Clean yourself up and then scoot to the end of the bed."

Giving himself a quick once over to clean away the stickiness, John did as he was told. He was mortified, but the lingering traces of submission made it all but impossible to ignore the direct order.

The Scot was quick and professional, his gloved hands cool. He offered a smile a few minutes later. "Good. You'll have some bruising and I don't imagine it will be easy to sit for a wee bit, but you're okay."

John had laid flat on the bed, one arm over his eyes. "I told you he didn't hurt me. I asked for it. I don't know what headspace he got lost in, but if he had pushed too far, I would have stopped it."

"I'm not sure you could have, John, given your…compliance even now." Carson's voice was quiet as he tugged off the gloves with a snap, putting them in a small bag of trash.

He swallowed. "If he was hurting me, I wouldn't have still been that turned on. Rough sex pushes me into sub headspace, yes, and more so now apparently, but I could have safe-worded."

"Do you even have one?"

John was pretty sure his skin was permanently stained red at this point. "No. But… if I had told him to stop, had asked, he would have."

"Are you sure?"

Swallowing, John lifted his arm so he could look at Carson. "I…yes. If he needed to use my body to work out a few things, I'm okay with that. But he would have stopped if I had asked."

Carson nodded, his face carefully neutral. "If there's nothing else, I'm going to go to the infirmary and check on Rodney. You're welcome to follow, but until I can get an update you will have to wait to see him."

John couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. He knew he really shouldn't be left alone. He needed someone else to ground him. But Rodney needed Carson more than he did. "Thank you. I'll... probably wander over in a few minutes. I need to see him. If he thinks he hurt me... I need to make sure he knows I'm okay."

"Aye. I called Kate down for a consult, so she might be in with him now." Carson bent down, grabbing his kit, balling up the garbage he'd dispose of in the infirmary.

Nodding, John watched as his friend finished gathering his things. He forced himself up, moving slowly to the dresser to look for clean clothes.

"You going to be okay, John?" Carson had paused at the door, glancing back at him.

Rodney. He needed Carson more than John did right now. Instead of wrapping his arms around himself like he wanted, John forced a small smile. "Yeah. I'll be fine. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Carson looked like was going to object for a moment, but his need to know how Rodney was faring was just as strong as John's and he nodded, heading out the door.

As soon as the door closed, John sank to the floor, letting the shudders rack through his body. He needed to get it out now, before he went down to the infirmary. Needed to be strong for Rodney.

It took him several minutes before he was able to pull himself together, drag himself back to something resembling normalcy.

Dragging in a few breaths, he ducked into the shower, doing a cursory, five-minute cleaning. He was dressed and out of the room a few minutes later, hair still damp as he made his way to the infirmary. Hopefully by now they would let him in to see Rodney, to find out exactly what had happened.

"Weir to Sheppard." The call came over his radio startling him to stillness.

Taking another breath, he tapped the radio on. "Sheppard here."

"John, I wanted to confirm out meeting this morning for 0900."

Fuck, he had forgotten about that. "Shit. Do you mind rescheduling for a little later? I have something I need to take care of."

John heard the shuffle of paper. "I'm pretty booked today. Are you certain you can't make it at nine? Can't you reschedule your conflict?"

He started walking again. "Unfortunately I completely forgot about this, and Carson and Kate needed to talk to me. Can our meeting wait until tomorrow?"

She paused again and John knew she was sitting alone in her office scowling at her PDA. "John, I know you hate meetings, but using Kate and Carson as an excuse—"

He shuddered again, a tremor running down his spine as the urge to concede, to obey, wracked through him. But this was more important. "I'm not... look, something's come up and I'm on my way to the infirmary now. It's not an emergency, but it can't be put off either."

Finally he heard the indrawn breath of concern. "What happened?"

"It... I'll brief you later, or have Kate and Carson do it." He took a deep breath. "If you really need me, I'll be there at 0900. But if we can reschedule, that would be better."

There was a long pause before she replied. "I'll email you a meeting update."

"Thanks." He walked through the doors of the infirmary, looking around for someone who could direct him to Rodney. "Anything else?"

"No. That was all."

"I'll keep an eye out for the email. Thanks. Sheppard out." Clicking off his radio, he moved deeper back, finally spotting Kate. "McKay...?"

"Is sleeping," she said moving toward him.

John started to move past her, guessing his lover was in the room behind her.

"John…" she started then paused, continuing a moment later. "Let's talk for a minute."

When he started to object, she wrapped a hand around his arm—firm enough that he was obeying before he realized it. Shit. He kept forgetting she was actually an experienced top. And with his headspace so fucked up right now... He decided a good defense was a good offense. "How is he?"

"He's sleeping, but I'd like to talk to you about what happened." She led him into Carson's office, closing the door behind them before she settled them in chairs.

Clasping his hands in front of him, John leaned back, trying for a casual slouch. "I'm not entirely sure what happened. One minute we were in bed together, and the next he was freaking out. Then Carson was there and Rodney was gone."

"The mood was normal, usual?"

He licked his lips and then smiled. "Yeah. I mean…he was... I asked him to... he was on top. But it wasn't like we had never done it that way. Well, he was more... toppy for lack of a better word... than I had ever seen him, but I didn't know anything was wrong until later."

"What do you mean, more toppy?"

He shrugged, evading the question. "When can I see him? Carson said he thought he hurt me."

"John, this is important. Please."

Closing his eyes, John slumped down a bit. "He was... more forceful. Ordering me around. Honestly, I snapped into sub headspace so fast, all I was really focusing on was how badly I wanted to come, to do what I was told. I don't think I've ever gone that deep, and especially not that fast. It...I still don't really know what happened."

"Did he say anything that might have indicated what he was thinking?"

"He was... he was talking but... Other than 'No' or 'Be still' I wasn't paying much attention." He shifted in his seat.

Kate nodded. "Carson said Rodney didn't injure you too badly. A few bruises mostly."

Nodding, John remembered the press of fingers into his skin, the feeling of being held down. He had always preferred topping in general, but God... it had felt so good to let go. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Rodney felt the same. A small tremor ran through him as he realized the odds of even getting fucked, much less bottoming, in the future were almost nil.

"John?" Kate's fingers lightly touched his arm.

"I just... Sorry... I'm still... Having a hard time pulling out of that place. And I know Rodney will never... Not after this."

"Will never?"

Eyes still closed, he felt himself go red again. Yeah, he didn't think he actually had any dignity left at this point. "F…fuck me. Top. Hell, touch me."

Kate sighed quietly, but nodded. "It may take a little time."

He made a soft noise, then forced it back. He could quietly lose it later. Right now, Rodney really needed him to pull it together. "God, and we were both doing so well. I guess we were due for a setback of some sort."

Kate nodded again. "From what I was able to put together, Rodney didn't have a flashback as much as a waking nightmare of sorts."

His eyes widened. "A... What?"

"As you know, Rodney has some pent up anger from the…circumstances surrounding his imprisonment but with no real outlet to release some of those feelings, that energy. He's put some of it into his work, but the other part—the anger toward the feelings of violations—is different."

John swallowed. Hard. "So he... wasn't really seeing me. He was... what? Hurting his captors? Hurting Kolya?" The thought made him feel sick. He hoped he had guessed wrong.

"Probably. And when he realized what happened…what he was doing I think he became overwhelmed, fearing that he'd hurt you, taken out his anger—unintentionally—on you."

John dove for the trash can, getting violently sick. He had thought... God, he didn't realize it had been that bad. Lost in that... Fuck, Rodney might not have heard if he had said no, if he had tried to end it... Oh fuck... And John had been too caught up in his own space to notice, to help. God, Rodney had needed him and he hadn't...

Hands were holding him up, rubbing his back. Calming words were whispered over and over, until he finally stopped heaving. A wet towel was pressed into his hand a moment later.

He wiped his mouth and let himself be pulled back, slumping into another body. "So fucked up. Both of us. God, I don't know if we can fix this."

"You can," Kate said quietly into his ear.

John's laugh bordered on hysterical. "He's a sub who's afraid to submit anymore, and I'm a top who can't seem to find headspace anymore. It doesn't get more—"

"We'll fix this. I promise."

After several heartbeats, John nodded. He wanted to believe her. "If I ever see Kolya again, I'm going to kill him."

"I believe there are several people who share the same sentiment—me included."

"Good. As long as he's dead, I really don't care who pulls the trigger." He paused. "Although it would be nice if he suffered first. A clean death is too good for the fucker."

"We'll try to arrange something suitable," Kate said, her voice even and serious.

He relaxed, the tension ebbing out of him. "Gut wounds are good. Almost impossible to recover from, but you take a long time to die. And it hurts. A lot."

Kate chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind." They were silent for a few minutes, Kate holding him carefully. "You okay?"

He took a deep breath and let it out again. "I will be. It's been an interesting morning." Sitting up slowly, he continued to take deep breaths as she let him move away. "I think I need to be there when Rodney wakes up. He needs to see, to hear it directly, that I'm okay. That he didn't hurt me."

"He was…he was a little…upset is probably too mild a word to use."

"That's why I need to be there. He needs to see me, see I'm okay, see that I'm not angry or disgusted or anything else he's decided in that massive brain of his."

Kate looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Why don't you run into the bathroom and get yourself together? I'll bring you in to him when you return."

With another deep breath, he nodded, slipping in to rinse out his mouth, straighten himself out. He stared in the mirror, refusing to go back out until the doubts, the need, was shoved down. Giving himself a final once over, he wandered back out to find Kate.

She was talking quietly with Carson, her expression intent. The Scot nodded before patting her arm and heading deeper into the infirmary, leaving Kate alone. She spotted John a moment later, offering a smile. "Ready?"

"Yeah. How long will he be sleeping? I'm assuming Beckett gave him a sedative."

"Actually, he's probably not sleeping that deeply. Doctor Beckett gave him something for the nausea, which has the added benefit of making him sleepy. He also put in an IV to make sure his sugar levels remained stable."

"Good." As soon as they turned the corner, John promptly forgot Kate was even in the room. God. Rodney looked so small, so vulnerable. He went to him immediately, reaching out to try and smooth away the pain and fear marring his lover's face.

Rodney stirred immediately, his eyes fluttering open, but as soon as he saw John his face crumbled. "Oh god…I'm so sorry. I know you probably hate me and for good reason, but—"

John stopped the flow of words with his mouth, pressing it against Rodney's, drinking in the words, gentle and sweet and trying to show his lover it was okay. He knew just telling him wouldn't be enough.

Rodney whimpered, clutching at John with his good hand—the one not attached to the IV—before pushing him away. "John, no. I hurt you—"

He only pulled back far enough to whisper. "No, you didn't. I'm fine, I love you, and I'm not letting you run away from me. You didn't hurt me." He kissed the corner of Rodney's mouth. "I love you." Another kiss. "You are not retreating, or running away."

John felt Kate slip out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her, giving them some privacy.

"I know what I did and it was wrong and I know I hurt you."

Since they were alone, John climbed into the small bed, careful of the IV, fitting himself along Rodney's body. "You didn't hurt me. Yes, it was a little rough, but I was painfully turned on. If it had gone into actual pain, I wouldn't have still been begging for it."

Rodney shook his head. "Doesn't make it right. I know what I did."

"You got caught up in a flashback. Granted, I would have preferred it to end with both of us sated and cuddling on the bed, but it didn't. So we move on." John sighed. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you all this right away. I was so deep in headspace... You know I'm something of a switch, right? I generally prefer to top, but I can get into subspace. It took me a while to pull back out again."

Apart from a shake of his head, Rodney didn't answer, his eyes closed head turned away from John.

"Rodney." John gently turned his lover's face so he was looking at him. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do that, should have noticed something was wrong sooner. But I really am okay. Carson checked me over—I'm fine."

"But I did…that to you, thinking it was him, that I could get back at him…" The last word was cradled in a sob, his body trembling under John's touch.

John pulled him close. "You didn't hurt me. I wanted you, Rodney. Wanted you inside me, and I like rough sex sometimes. If I thought it would help, I'd offer to let you use my body however you needed to get past this."

Rodney shook his head, face pressed against John's chest. "I'm so sorry, so sorry."

"You're forgiven, always." He ghosted the words into Rodney's hair.

His lover fell silent, clutching at John as he slowly drifted into slumber once again. John simply held him, listening to his breathing, feeling his thumping of his beating heart under his hand.

The door slid open a while later, a single figure approaching as John watched.

"He didn't hurt me, Carson. If anything, he was more damaged this morning than I was." John needed the other man to understand that. Needed him to focus on helping Rodney.

"I know, John. But I had to be sure. You understand, right?" Carson's voice was quiet. He stopped next to the bed, checking on the levels of the fluids for the IV.

"Yeah, I do. I just needed to make sure you did. He's more important. Helping him is always the top priority." John rubbed his nose in the soft hair of his lover.

Carson shot him a look, but didn't comment. "He should be through with the IV in about an hour."

"Can you officially admit me for something until he's ready to be released? I'd like to stay until I know he's okay."

"I've already talked with both Major Lorne and Doctor Weir and cleared your schedule."

"Carson, you are a god among men." John smiled at him, then shifted so he could pull Rodney closer.

"Kate wants to have a session with the two of you when Rodney's feeling up to it."

He was actually surprised they hadn't been pulled into joint sessions before this. "Whenever she wants. If it will help him..."

Carson nodded. "She thinks it will."

John watched him quietly for a few minutes. "Would it be possible to get a bit of breakfast for me? In all the fuss, I never ate."

"I'll have something brought up for the both of you. I'd like to see if he can keep something down."

"Thank you." Rodney moved against him, and John's focus went completely back to his lover. "Hey, sleeping beauty. You rejoining us again?"

Rodney snuffed into John's chest the way he'd done into the pillow this morning—eons ago it seemed like—before slowly opening his bloodshot eyes. He blinked once, and then again, before focusing on John. "Dream?"

John shook his head gently, tightening his arms around his lover. "Afraid not. But I'm okay, and I'm not going anywhere. Carson is going to get us some breakfast."

"Oh." The one syllable word was miserable, but he didn't try to get away from John.

Slipping a finger under Rodney's chin, John tipped the other man's face up, brushing their lips together. "It's okay. I'm okay. Carson and Kate want us to do a joint session, see if we can't work some of this stuff out."

"I'm so sorry."

John wanted to tell him he had nothing to be sorry about, but he knew Rodney would never believe him. "You're forgiven. Completely and with no hesitations."

Rodney tightened the arms he had wrapped around John. "I'm so screwed up."

John shifted so Rodney could wiggle closer. "You're not screwed up. Remember the PTSD from a while back? This is the same thing, just different since it was a different situation. We'll fix it though. You're getting better. We both are. It just takes time, as much as I hate to say it."

"I'm just tired of all of this crap." Rodney's words were quiet, weary.

Resting his head against Rodney's, John sighed. "I know."

"I don't want to do this anymore."

It felt like John's heart stopped, and he reflexively tightened his arms, pulling Rodney closer. "You don't want to do us anymore? Or you... you don't want to do Atlantis anymore?"

"I'm tired of this—of fighting, of people screwing with my head, of being hurt, of seeing you get hurt. I'm…it's just not fun anymore."

John's muscles relaxed. He wasn't sure what he would have done if Rodney had said he couldn't handle them being together any more. "I know. But don't make any decisions right now. We're both a little unstable and we might end up regretting it if we do anything rash. If you still feel this way after we're both cleared for missions again... then we'll resign and go back to Earth."

Rodney shoved himself up a little so he could look John in the eyes, the intensity a little disconcerting. "No. You don't understand. I’m scared to have sex with you. I…I don't trust myself not to do what I did before again. I don't want to hurt you. That's even worse than someone else hurting you. I just can't…"

John felt like someone had just punched him, and he tightened his grip again. "No. You're not... Rodney, you didn't hurt me. We'll move slow, and I won't ask you to top again if you don't want to, but... No. I'm not letting you walk away, not because of this."

"I don't want to walk away, but I don't know what else to do. I can't…I won't hurt you like that again."

John cupped his lover's face, stroking his thumb through the stubble. "We'll figure it out. Kate will help, especially if we're going to add joint sessions with her. And I'll do better, too. I won't let myself get to caught up that I don't notice when you're starting to have problems like that. I'll stop it before it goes that far again. Don't give up, Rodney. We'll fix this."

Rodney shook his head. "I don't see how. I can't top and I can't…I don't know if I can bottom right now. I can't…we can't have sex like this. It's hurting us too much. I don't even know if this can get better."

"I'm not with you just for the sex, Rodney. We'll find a way to fix this, but even if we can't... If I have to choose between celibacy and having you every other way, or sex without you, I'll take vows as a fucking monk."

Rodney stifled a laugh, shaking his head. "That's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one."

John blinked and then started to chuckle as well. "I guess I didn't think of it that way. But the sentiment stands. I'm in this for the long-term, Rodney. We'll deal with the issues, but while the sex is amazing, it's not the reason I'm with you. I love you."

"I know," he said, letting out a long breath before settling against John again.

They just held each other for a while, both of them looking up when Carson returned pushing a cart with two trays of food, Kate tailing him. "I was starting to wonder where room service was. Careful or I'll complain to the manager." It wasn't a great joke, but John needed to lighten the mood as much as possible.

Carson rolled his eyes, parking the cart next to the bed before he maneuvered around to the other side to check on Rodney's IV bag. "How are you two doing?"

When Rodney didn't answer, John responded for both of them. "A little upset, a little frustrated, but otherwise okay I guess."

"Is that true for Rodney as well?" Kate asked, her eyes drifting between the two of them.

John felt his lover stiffen a bit and fought the urge to sigh. This morning had really set him back a bit. "I think so, yeah. He's... we talked a bit. We have some things we need to work through, and I'm not sure we can do it without help." It was painful to admit, but helping Rodney was more important than pride.

Kate nodded, understanding clear on her face. "Talking is a good way to start and I'm not sure how much of it you've really been doing."

Licking his lips, John shrugged a bit. "To each other? Some. But obviously not enough, and not the right things."

"'Can you pass the salt' and 'More, please' don't generally count as talking," Rodney grumbled into John's chest as Carson carefully withdrew the IV from Rodney's arm.

Chuckling, John nodded. "True. But we have moved slightly beyond that stage. We've just been avoiding all mention of sensitive subjects because I'm afraid I'll throw you into a flashback, and I don't think you really wanted to bring it up. But that changes now. We'll fix this."

Rodney snorted. "We’ll see."

John reached over to snag a roll off one of the trays, breaking it in half to share with Rodney. Nibbling on his part, he looked at Kate. "So you tell us. When and where do you want us?"

"My office after you eat?"

"We'll be there."

"I know you will be," Kate said with a smile, nodding her head before he headed back out leaving them with Carson.

John raised an eyebrow at his friend. "So, Doc? Are we good to go as soon as we eat?"

"Should be," Carson nodded, standing at the foot of the bed. "I'd like both of you to try and eat a decent breakfast. And that includes you, Rodney."

McKay grumbled, but nodded, staring at the half-roll in his hand. "Means I need to get up, I guess. I have no intention of choking on bread products. And where's the coffee?"

Smiling at this show of his normal Rodney, letting the rush of affection wash through him, John loosened his grip to let his lover sit up and shift into a more comfortable position for eating. "I'll second the coffee..."

"I have some juice for you right now. I want to make sure your stomach is settled before we start giving it something as acidic as coffee," Carson said, raising a finger when he saw Rodney's mouth opening to complain. "If everything sits okay, I'll think about coffee."

"What about me? Can I have coffee?" He'd just give most of it to Rodney, but still...

Carson shook his head. "I know you. Juice or water, unless you want to sit in my office and drink coffee."

John made a face. "Juice then. You've got an evil streak Beckett."

"Just keeping the welfare of my patients in mind," he said as he walked out the door leaving them to their breakfast.

John glanced at Rodney, offering a small smile. "He's learning to read minds. I was just going to give you my coffee."

"I figured," Rodney said, maneuvering so he was sitting up on the bed. He picked at the roll in his hand, trying a few small bites.

Leaning sideways, John grabbed a plate and balanced it between them. He picked at the fruit and other items.

"This sucks," Rodney finally said with a huff.

"It's better than it could be."

"I don't see how."

"The team is all home, alive, nothing permanently damaged. Psychological issues we can fix. Lost limbs are harder. Lost lives even more so."

"Maybe." Rodney picked at the near-grapes he usually liked.

John wanted to pick one up, feed it to him, but that hadn't gone over well last time. "Slightly damaged but home alive is always preferable to lost." John glanced over at his lover. "If they hadn't found you, I'm not sure what I would have done."

"Moved on."

John moved a piece of nearly-sausage around on the plate with a fork. "I'm not sure about that. I'm just glad we don't have to test the theory."

"I would have wanted you to."

"I know." John watched his lover out of the corner of his eye. "But I'm not sure I could have. I wasn't having an easy time recovering until they brought you home, and I know both Carson and Kate were worried about what I would do if you were never found."

Rodney shrugged, picking at another roll. "You're a survivor. You would have done whatever you needed to do."

John swallowed hard, trying to imagine a life without Rodney. Despite having lived with his lover for only a year, the thought of not having him there... He shuddered slightly. "Just don't... I don't want to have to find out first hand. We'll both do our best to stop getting kidnapped and injured, so it becomes a moot point. We'll retire someplace and spend our later years with a million cats and terrorizing the local kids."

"If you say so."

John was feeling too broken right now, still a bit raw from the morning's issues. So he let it drop. "If you don't eat, Beckett will put the IV back in."

"I know."

John pushed the plate closer to Rodney. "How's your stomach feeling?"

Rodney shrugged. "Like I was throwing up this morning."

John carefully worked an arm so it was around Rodney's shoulders, but still gave the other man freedom of movement to eat. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Rodney said, taking another small bite of the roll and washing it down with some apple juice. "This time it was all me."

"I share some of the blame. I shouldn't have asked you to do it, and I shouldn't have let myself get so lost that I didn't notice when you got caught up. If it makes you feel any better, I really didn't know anything was wrong until after, when you were getting sick, and Carson was suddenly there."

Rodney scowled at him. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because, you know, it doesn't."

John sighed. "Sorry. I just didn't want you to think I had been, you know, just laying there enduring."

Rodney finally tossed down the rest of the roll before swinging his feet off the bed. He steadied himself against the side before moving to the chair where a science uniform was sitting.

"Rodney... please. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking I need to get dressed so we can go and bare our feelings to Kate." He was tugging off the scrubs, putting the other clothes on in their place, the movements jerky, sharp.

"Whatever I said to piss you off, I'm sorry."

"Nothing. You did nothing."

John's own temper flared a little. "What do you want from me, Rodney? What did you want me to do? Yes, I should have caught on that you were lost in something else sooner, and I apologized for it. I'm not perfect—I wish I was, but I can't... I'm just... I'm not."

Rodney turned, his pants in his hands, fingers clenched in the fabric. "Oh look! You've finally hit the nail on the head. Yes, this is all about you, Sheppard. This has nothing to do with me at all."

John glared. "I've been trying damn hard to ignore my own issues to take care of you, but it doesn't seem to be doing me any fucking good. You won't talk to me, tell me what I can do to help, and then you get pissed at me when I don't do what you want. Let me help you, but stop making me guess what the fuck you're thinking."

"Why? So you can just beat yourself up again because you weren't the one to save me, protect me? As if that's a healthy attitude." Rodney snorted, advancing slightly on John, his hand raised. "Have you ever considered that I might not want your help?"

"You think that's why I've been there? Because I feel guilty?" John swung out of the bed, getting into Rodney's face. He knew he needed to get control of his anger, but he was getting tired of this. "Did it ever occur to you that I'm just as fucked in the head as you are, but I've been suppressing it because I know you need the help more than I do? That I'm doing it because I care about you and want to see you get better? Or did you just jump to conclusions. Again? Always willing to believe the worst possible thing about me?"

"I just tell it like I see it, Sheppard. It's always just about you. Sometimes I forget that Atlantis and the entire Pegasus Galaxy revolve around what you want. And from the moment I got back, you've been smothering me. It was what you wanted, when you wanted it without any thought to what I'd been through." Rodney paused, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe you should get your own problems dealt with before you try to stick your nose into mine."

John closed his eyes, the fight draining out of him. On a lot of levels, he knew Rodney was right. He had tried not to let it interfere, but he hadn't done a very good job of it. He sank into a nearby chair. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth... I'm sorry."

Rodney threw his hands up in the air. "And he's sorry. Of course he is. He's always sorry."

John ran a hand across his face. He had no idea what he could say or do to fix this anymore. He just knew he wanted things better again.

Rodney shoved his legs into his pants, buttoning up, barely containing his anger. "I should have known this was going to happen. But no. I refused to listen to myself—the only genius in the Pegasus galaxy."

"Rodney... All I want to do is help you. I'm fucking it up, but... Whatever you need. Just tell me, and I'll do it. I didn't mean to smother you, and I don't want to drive you away."

"Change, I need to change."

"Whatever you need."

"Right now, I need to go," Rodney said, already padding barefoot to the door.

"Do you want me to cancel the appointment with Kate?" John made no attempt to stop him. If Rodney needed time and space... whether it killed him or not, John would give it to him.

"Do…do whatever you want. You always do." The door opened and he peered out, pausing for a few seconds.

"Whatever you need, Rodney." John didn't know what else he could do, could say.

A beat later and Rodney slipped out of the room, heading toward the infirmary entrance, the door closing quietly behind him, leaving John behind.

Dropping his head into his hands, John sighed. He tapped his radio without looking up. "Sheppard to Heightmeyer."

"Heightmeyer here."

"We probably need to reschedule. Rodney just left here pissed off at me, rightfully so. I have no idea if he's heading to you or not."

"What do you mean?" Her voice was guarded, cautious.

"He's angry at me, at the world, at the situation. He left here a few minutes ago."

"What do you mean he left? He hasn't been released by Doctor Beckett, has he? He really shouldn't be wandering around. He had a severe episode this morning."

"I have no idea about any of that. We argued, he yelled, then he left. I'll be in my office today if you need me for anything."

"John, no, wait. We can't just let this go by."

Great. So even letting Rodney walk away had been the wrong thing to do. John decided he just shouldn't have gotten out of bed today. "What do you want from me, Kate? Since no decision I make seems to be the right one lately, you tell me what the best course of action here is."

She was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking. "First, I want you to let Doctor Beckett know where Rodney went—or where you think he might have gone. Then, I want you in my office so we can talk while we get Rodney sorted out."

"All right." John stood, moving to the door to find Carson. "Let me brief Beckett, and I'll be right down."

"Thank you. Let me know if there are any other…snafus. Heightmeyer, out."

"Sheppard out." John found the doctor in his office. Hoping he could get this over with quickly, he went for information overload. "Rodney left pissed off at me and I have no idea where he went. Heightmeyer wants me to report to her office. If you need me, that's where I'll be."

Carson looked up, his expression totally shocked. "How about you repeat that again a wee bit slower? It's been a mite bit of a tough go this morning for a lot of us."

John ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. Rodney and I argued and he left. I called Heightmeyer to let her know we weren't coming down, and she said she still wants to see me. I guess she's putting you in charge of tracking down McKay."

"Bloody hell. I heard the two of you going at it, but I figured you would just kiss and make up like you usually do." He rose to his feet, his expression closed of a little. "I'll make sure he gets to Kate's office if I have to drag him there myself."

John shook his head. "I don't know anymore, Carson. I don't know what he needs, and I don't know how to give it to him. Every move I make is the wrong one. Dragging him down to Kate, forcing it on him, isn't going to change anything. It will just piss him off more."

"At least it's something better than his blind obedience."

"True. And it makes sense that he's angry, and that I'm the target of it. But just because I understand the reasons, it doesn't make it any easier."

"No, I canna imagine it does. Go see Kate. I'll find Rodney."

"Yes, sir." John shot off a half-assed salute and started for Kate's office. God, it had already been a long day, and it was barely even past sunrise.

He took his time, knowing he wasn't going to enjoy the next little while. Kate was waiting for him with a smile and a mug of coffee.

He accepted the beverage and sprawled in what had become his usual chair in her office. It had a nice view of the window. "I fucked up."

Kate raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her own beverage. "Why do you think so?"

Looking out the window, John sipped slowly. "I put my own needs above his, even if I didn't realize I was doing it. I needed the contact, needed to be near him, and I didn't stop to think about whether or not he would be okay with it. He said I was smothering him, and he was right."

"Are you sure?"

He gave a sharp laugh. "No. But I see his point. I have no clue how to help him, and everything I try only seems to make things worse. Today is case in point. We hadn't done more than touch, get each other off, since he was brought home. I wanted that connection with him again, and I didn't stop to think about whether or not we should."

"What made you think that it would be okay?"

"I came in from my jog, and he looked so…so perfect... and we used to do it every morning when we had the time. Maybe I just wanted to feel normal again, I don't know. I knew he wasn't up to bottoming, and I had forgotten how much I... enjoy it. So it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Kate tilted her head to the side. "How do you know he wasn't up for bottoming?"

"I don't know. He seems more skittish about it. And he told me in the infirmary, before we started fighting, that he didn't think he could bottom, and he's afraid to top now. I'm losing him in little bits and pieces." He looked out again, over his city. Maybe this wasn't the place for them anymore. It was home, but... he didn't know if he and Rodney could survive with sanity intact if things like this kept happening.

Kate was quiet for a few minutes, letting him breathe a little. Her voice when she finally spoke was quiet. "How much have the two of you talked about your relationship?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Some. Not much. I didn't want to push him away, and he didn't bring it up."

She nodded. "Did he say anything else when you were fighting that…surprised you?"

John didn't meet her gaze. "He said I didn't ever think about what he needs, only about myself. That he needed to change. That I was smothering him."

"How did that make you feel?"

He snorted. "How do you think? God, Kate, I have no idea what I'm doing. I know I'm bad at relationships, but that... And what's worse, is that some of it was that I was treating him the way I used to, before all this happened. I curbed it, but he is…was…still mine to take care of. But apparently that wasn't okay anymore."

"So what do you want to do about it? If it were up to you, how would you handle this?"

He thought about it. "If I could handle it exactly the way I want? I'd tie him to the bed and wouldn't let him up until I was sure we were on the same page again, and he was so sated and blissed out he couldn't think straight anymore." He sighed. "But somehow, I doubt he'll let me do that anymore."

"Why do you think he'd say no to that…situation?"

"He was a captive. I don't really think bondage will turn him on right now." John couldn't help the slightly hopeful note his voice took on. "Do you?"

"I'm asking you to try and put yourself in his shoes right now. To try and get you in his head a bit. You probably know just as much about what happened to him as we do, but you've heard a little more of the…personal side. You know him. Think."

Closing his eyes, John tried to do as she had asked, tried to set aside all of his own desires, and just focus on Rodney. "I think... I think he's scared. Of what it makes him feel, of what he might do, did do. Even more so after this morning. I think he'll run if anything—sex or otherwise—comes at him too fast at the moment."

"How do you think it makes him feel?"

"Overwhelmed, probably. It's why I've been taking it so slow. And angry. At Kolya for breaking him, at himself for losing control—even though it wasn't his fault—at me for not coming to get him faster."

"You think he blames you?"

"Yes."

Kate tiled her head, looking at him for a moment. "Why do you think so? Has he said he does?"

"No, but... He's pissed at me. I'm an easy target, and I didn't come for him. Not to mention, it was me Kolya used to finally push him over the edge. I think that's why he's pulling away from me."

"Could he be scared?"

"I'd be surprised if he wasn't."

She nodded. "How about used? Do you think he feels used or manipulated?"

John sighed. "I know he does, Kate. That's why I was trying to go slow, be easy with him."

"How about weak?"

"Yes. Hence, why I've steered clear of any real play."

Kate nodded again, pursing her lips for a moment before leaning forward as she crossed her legs, leaning an elbow on her knee. "How would you describe Rodney as a person?"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"And I don't want sexual terminology. Describe him for me. Personality-wise."

He shrugged. "Scary smart. Cares a lot more than he lets on. Hides his feelings because he's afraid of getting hurt."

"Why science?"

"It makes sense to him. Logical, repeatable, he can figure it out."

"What else? Think about who he is, how he is as a person." Kate was obviously trying to ferret something out.

John sighed. He was too tired for this game. "He hates not knowing, not understanding. Anything new is something he has to dissect, take apart."

"Hates not being in control?"

"He used to give it up willingly to me." John's chest contracted a little at that. "He used to trust me with it. Now... this is just one more reason I'm going to kill Kolya."

"Maybe right now he needs to have some kind of control over himself, his time, his body."

He glared at her. "So my initial statement of 'he won't let me anywhere near him' was correct. Why did we go through all of this?"

"Because you need to understand the reasons why he's acting the way he is."

John didn't really want to argue with her, so he shrugged. "All right."

"You tell me yes and you nod in all the right places, but I don't think you're listening."

Glancing out the window, John realized he really missed flying. "I do understand, and I am listening. But you aren't telling me anything I didn't already know. The problem isn't that I don't know Rodney's having control issues and is angry at the whole situation. The problem is that I have no idea how to help him. The only thing I haven't tried is just stepping back, which is why I'm doing that now."

"And why are you doing that?"

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, John kept his gaze out the window. "Because if he needs space to figure things out in his own head right now, then, no matter much it kills me, that's what he's going to get."

"And because he asked you to?"

"He didn't really ask me to. He just... got mad at me, told me I was smothering him and would do whatever I wanted anyway. Honestly, I don't really think there's anything I can do right with him at the moment."

Her door chose that moment to chime and she rose to answer it, the panel sliding open to reveal a shoe-clad Rodney with Carson standing behind him. "Rodney, good to see you. Please come in. Carson, thank you for bringing him."

Biting at his bottom lip, John caught Rodney's eye while the doctors talked, pitching his voice low. "For the record, I told Carson he should make sure you were okay and then leave you alone, since that was what you seemed to want."

Rodney shrugged, the fight from before replaced by weariness. "What does it matter?"

John shifted over, a silent invitation that Rodney could join him on the couch if he wanted to. Or not. "It matters."

He sighed and slumped next to John, hips and thighs touching. "Nothing matters anymore."

"You matter."

He shrugged again, letting out a sigh as the door closed and Kate returned to her chair. "Can I get you anything, Rodney?"

"A get out of the shrink's office free card?"

John's lips twitched. He wanted to twine their fingers together, but... he settled for resting his hand on his own thigh. At least there it was near Rodney. "She broke out the good coffee." He offered his own cup to his lover.

Rodney shook his head. "I had some. Didn't sit right."

"Bummer." If coffee was upsetting his stomach, then Rodney really wasn't feeling well.

"How about some tea?" Kate asked, already moving to get up, only to be stopped by the shake of Rodney's head.

"No. Can we just get this circus started?"

"Do you want me to leave?" John encompassed both of them in the question.

Kate shook her head. "I'd like you to stay."

John looked at Rodney. "Are you okay with me here?"

"Fine. Whatever gets this over the quickest."

It hurt to see Rodney McKay, one of the most opinionated men in two galaxies, reduced to just agreeing with everything. So John nodded and slumped deeper into the couch. Was Rodney just sinking into submission just to avoid being hurt? Was this what he'd done with Kolya? Was this why he was pulling back from him now?

"John and I were discussing a little of your situation," Kate began, only to get an amused snort from Rodney in response.

"Oh yes. Scintillating conversation I can imagine."

John offered a small grin. "Always. You're the most invigorating person I know."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, she was trying to get you to see my point of view."

"I had to describe you as a person."

"And?"

John knew Kate was just letting them talk, so he smiled a little. "I told her you were brilliant—scary smart—and that you care a lot more than you let on sometimes. And that you're afraid of getting hurt again. By other people, by me."

"And that's supposed to be a revelation?" He saw surprise in Rodney's eyes.

"I think she just wanted to hear me say it. We also talked about you and science. That you like it because it makes sense, it's logical. You can control it, predict it."

"Of course I like it. I picked it as a profession, didn't I?" He shot an annoyed look at Kate.

She shrugged unapologetically.

John chuckled. "She was trying to make a point, I think."

"Oh? And what might that have been? Any point to this conversation so far seems to have escaped me."

John caught and held Rodney's eyes. "The point was that you lost your ability to control your life, and I need to back off and give you the space and time you need to feel like you have it back. And get my head out of my ass, but she didn't phrase it that way."

Rodney's mouth twitched. "And?"

John put one hand over his heart, and held the other up, palm out. "I, John Sheppard, do swear I will do my best to get un-ass-fixated and give you, Rodney McKay, whatever you need to get through this. Even if what you need is for me to get lost for a while."

Rodney grabbed his hand, shaking his head. "You are an ass."

John's smile was genuine as Rodney curled their fingers together. "But I'm your ass. Well, not your actual ass. You have a very nice ass, and I don't want to demean it any way. But seriously, I'll try harder."

He nodded finally, his eyes widening a bit when he realized how serious John was. "Space. I need to…I need to find me again before I can even try to give it to you."

John nodded. "That's fair. You tell me what you're okay with right now, and I'll abide by it. When you're ready for more, you can tell me."

"But I don’t know how long or what it might entail."

"It's okay. Whatever you need. Just..." John swallowed. "We're still together, right? You aren't, do you need a break from everything? I understand if you don't actually want to be around me right now, and for however long you need it's okay. I just want to know there's still an 'us'."

Rodney reached out, pressing a hand to John's chest, pushing his tags and the ring against his skin. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

John smiled, hoping Rodney could read everything he was feeling in his eyes. Love, relief, support, everything. "Good. As long as I know that, I can wait for you forever if necessary. I wasn't kidding when I said I didn't care about the sex part. It's good, but I'd rather have you with no sex than not have you at all."

Rodney nodded, leaning forward, tucking his head into the crook of John's shoulder, his arms wrapping around him, words pressed to skin. "Thank you."

John wrapped his own arms around his lover, keeping the embrace loose enough so Rodney knew he could pull back whenever he wanted. He rested his cheek against his lover's hair. "Anything, Rodney. I'll give you anything you need."

When Rodney finally pulled back, his eyes were a little wet, his smile careful, almost broken. He nodded once and then again, leaning back against the couch as he nervously tugged his clothes back into place.

John's heart went out to the other man. He wanted to fix things, make them better. But this was one fight he needed to sit out if they had any hope of winning. With a glance at Kate, who gave him a barely there nod, John took a deep breath and kept going. "All right, so we're both on the same page, let's figure out what the boundaries are. What's okay right now, and what's not?"

Rodney glanced down, eyes on his hands, his words quiet. "No sex."

"Okay."

"I need to work." This time Rodney looked up at Kate, eyes demanding and hopeful.

She nodded slowly. "You already have limited access. I'm willing to negotiate more, but I'm not willing to completely clear you yet. And I'll want your promise to stick to a set number of hours, or the deal is off."

This time Rodney's eyes widened, hands clenching together.

She shook her head. "You aren't ready for full duty yet, Rodney, despite what you think. I understand you need to return to your old routines. But for now, five hours a day is the most I'm willing to give. If you stick to that, next week we can move to eight."

He nodded reluctantly. John knew he'd be working more than five hours. "Space to think. Time to get myself together without my team hovering over my shoulder."

"All right. You'll find us, we won't find you. Can we still have dinner together?" He actually did enjoy having the whole team together for that short time each day. It kept them connected, a cohesive unit.

"If I’m free."

Which meant no. John held in his sigh. This was what his lover needed. "Okay. What else?"

"I'm not sure."

"You can tell me as you think of them. What about nights? You said no sex, does that include sleeping in the same bed?"

"I…" Rodney froze for a moment, his eyes on his hands.

John closed his eyes for a heartbeat. He hated sleeping alone, and had since he was brought back. But this wasn't about him. "Tell you what, if you want company, you know you're always welcome in my room. I won't come to your room without an invitation."

Rodney nodded. "Okay."

Kate broke in. "I think that's good progress for today. I'd like to see you both again. How about every other day we do a joint session, and on the opposite days we'll continue with your individual sessions."

Rodney offered her a shrug in response, eyes still turned downward.

"You've both had a rough morning, so take the rest of the day off. You can resume your duties tomorrow. Rodney, I'll talk with Carson, and make sure he knows I've cleared you to work in the labs again starting tomorrow."

He nodded, his left leg bouncing up and down. "Thank you."

With a smile, she stood, giving them permission to leave. John returned it. "Thanks, Kate."

She smiled as Rodney finally jumped to his feet, already heading for the door. "You're welcome."

With a slight wave, John followed his lover out the door more slowly. He didn't think anyone would notice if he holed up in his office for a little while and just decompressed.

Rodney certainly wouldn't, seeing that he was already halfway down the hall to the transporter.

Running a hand through his hair, John turned to take the long way around. He had promised to give the other man space. And he would do his best to give it to him.

***

It only took two days before Rodney showed up at John's door.

At first, the freedom and the space had been exactly what he needed. It gave him time to think, feel, without having John—or anyone else—hovering over his shoulder. He walked a lot, trying to sort through his feelings, his emotions, separating events and people in his own head.

Teyla found him at one point, sitting out on the West Pier, her smile cautious and tender. She simply paused and looked at him with a gaze that seemed to go completely through him before he nodded, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

She'd offered silent companionship and support before quietly asking if he wished to meditate again.

To his own surprise, he agreed.

They meditated together for an hour or more and for the first time in weeks Rodney finally felt calm, if not content. He needed one more thing for that.

Which was why he was standing outside John's door at 2700 hours, wringing his hands together as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

He loved John. He knew that.

He missed him. Missed his smell, how he'd look at Rodney and even without saying a word he knew exactly what John was saying.

He hated sleeping alone. It was cold, lonely. It reminded him of when he'd been unhappy, isolated in his little world of science and work and trying to stay alive just so he could do it all over again.

With a final rushed exhale of air, Rodney raised his hand and brushed it against the door panel, hearing the chime inside the room.

And he waited—his heart in his throat, his palms sweaty.

The door slid open a moment later, John's eyes going wide with surprise when he saw who was there. The slow smile that stretched across his face was both shy and brilliant as he stepped aside silently to let Rodney enter.

"Uh…hi." Standing here in John's quarters, Rodney realized this might have been a bad idea.

John reached out, cupping Rodney's face, holding it for a quick, closed-mouth kiss. "Hi. Coming to bed? It's late."

"I…" Rodney looked at John, surprised by his lover's easy acceptance of his presence. "Is that why you think I'm here?"

John's hand was warm against his cheek, his thumb making tiny movements through Rodney's stubble. "Isn't it? If not, we can do something else, but given how late it is, I assumed that was why you were here. Although you don't have to actually knock. The door opens for you—even if I have it locked, it will override for you like it will for me."

"After…after what happened," he said, his hand gesturing weakly as he stared at John, "I didn't want to presume anything with you…us."

"You're always welcome here. That hasn't changed, and never will." John's smile was gentle.

Rodney ducked his head, a quick nod to John. "I…it's been hard to sleep."

John chuckled softly. "So come to bed then." He moved away, and for the first time Rodney realized he was in the old, worn pair of sweats Sheppard rarely pulled out—and nothing else.

"Are you sure?"

"Mmmm, hmmm. I miss holding you. I don't know about you, but I sleep a lot better when you're beside me." John flopped into the bed, holding out his arms in invitation, a yawn following a beat later.

"It's sad when a single bed feels empty when there's only one person in it," Rodney said, tugging off his uniform jacket, hanging it on the back of John's desk chair.

"The Ancients were weird, but they had the right idea. Little beds get you so used to sleeping plastered against someone that sleeping alone is just wrong somehow." John curled their bodies together when Rodney joined him in the bed. A soft kiss was pressed into the back of Rodney's neck. "G'night."

Rodney lay quietly spooned in front of John for several minutes before he sighed, shifting once again into an upright position.

John's hand came to rest against his lower back, rubbing gently. "Rodney?"

"I'm hot. Too many clothes."

"Okay. Take off whatever you need, whatever you're comfortable with." John hadn't taken the sweats back off, although Rodney knew he usually slept in boxers or nude. That he left them on now was for Rodney's benefit, and it was an oddly tender gesture. John was trying to give him the space he had asked for.

It only took a moment for Rodney to tug off his shirt before he stood, pulling his boxers free as well. He just…he just wanted to feel John. He turned slightly, glancing down at his lover. "Is this…is this going to be okay?"

John's eyes were roaming his body, almost hungry. He swallowed hard before nodding. "God, you're beautiful. Yeah.... there will never be a time when this won't be okay."

"Are you sure? I know I haven't been the most…understanding as of late, but I just want to feel you and the clothes just get in the way."

John held out his arms in an open invitation. "Come to bed."

Rodney hesitated, his eyes drifting down to John's threadbare sweats. "Do you…ah…mind?"

His lover swallowed again before sitting up, pushing them down and kicking them off the end of the bed. He was half-hard, and when he saw Rodney noticing, he blushed. "Sorry. I can't help it. I promise, I won't try anything though."

Rodney nodded, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. "Can you just hold me?"

"Yes." It came immediately, John once more holding out his arms for Rodney to fit himself into.

Feeling his heart jump slightly, Rodney leaned down, letting John guide him into position as he fit himself all along his back, his half-erect cock settling in the crack between Rodney's ass cheeks. It startled him for a minute, making him tense, but Rodney shook it off quickly. He'd asked for this. He wanted this.

John's arm fitted across his waist loosely, hand resting against his stomach. A warm huff of air let him know Sheppard had pushed his nose into the spot he usually claimed when they were cuddling like this. "Mmmm, missed you like this."

"Me, too," Rodney whispered, feeling the truth of his answer.

John's arms tightened for a fraction of a second before going loose again. "Tomorrow is going to come really early. Try to get some sleep while you can."

"All I have is a meeting at 1100 with Radek. Not exactly back to any kind of schedule yet," Rodney said, feeling some of the tension in his frame slowly seep out.

"But you're getting there. Heightmeyer said she would clear you for more active time next week, right? So think of this as easing back into things instead of jumping in feet first. I know you have what—five hours a day in the labs? Do you want me to come down and turn stuff on for you for a while tomorrow? Start on the backlog of gizmos?"

"I'm backlogged in paperwork and emails," Rodney said with a sigh. "I never realized how much time the science staff spends sending memos."

He felt John's chuckle more than heard it, his whole body jiggling slightly. "Radek is too wily to get roped into doing the paperwork for you, eh? Lorne hasn't quite figured out how to tell me no yet."

Rodney huffed. "Have you read Zelenka's file? You'd be scared, too."

"I don't want to know. He's already scary enough with the whole mad scientist thing he has going for him." John was pressing a smile into the back of Rodney's neck.

"He is, isn't he?" Rodney asked with his own smile, his eyelids finally getting heavy.

"Mmmm hmmmm. I keep expecting him to get that gleam all the really crazy ones in the old movies had."

"But he does. Only shows just the science staff, though."

John's chuckle was sleepier this time. "Good to know."

"Mmm," Rodney said quietly, shifting back into John a little more, needing the contact.

John's arms held him close, their bodies pressed together. One leg had slipped between Rodney's hooking their ankles together and tangling their limbs. "G'night Rodney. Love you." He whispered, John already more than half asleep again.

"I know," Rodney replied back just as quietly, the added 'but I don't really know why' echoing through his mind. He listened to John's breathing as it evened out, signaling his fall into slumber, Rodney following slowly behind.

He knew it was going to take time to make things right again. He loved John, and he didn't want to shortchange him, give him something less than himself. But until he knew who he was and got that settled in his own mind, he had nothing to give John—or anyone else.

Time.

He just needed time.

And he was grateful John was willing to give it to him.

***

The End


End file.
